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by sp8ce



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Black Romance, Black-Red Vacillation, Blow Jobs, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Depression, Fear, First Kiss, First Time, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Hope, Insecurity, Isolation, Kissing, Loneliness, M/M, Mania, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Miscommunication, Non-Graphic Violence, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Psychosis, Quadrant Confusion, Quadrant Vacillation, Red Romance, Regret, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-06-06 04:44:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 54,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15187064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp8ce/pseuds/sp8ce
Summary: Pity, respect, and hate. Trust?Sollux initiates a black relationship with Eridan, but emotions are complex and growing upis hard. Now, you're trying to understand.





	1. Chapter 1

You have no idea what changed his mind about going black with you in the first place. You tell yourself, well, of course he’d want to in the end, but you’re still thrown for a loop by it. Mostly because Feferi’d been so insistent on how you were flirting with him to make her auspistise, which, for the record, was completely inaccurate. You’d actually been frustrated by the pissblood for several perigrees before he and Feferi even became a thing in the game, but she’d probably told him the prior if the subject was ever brought up.

You try to put her out of your mind though. She didn’t want part of your life even if you were both royalty together and had once been moirails. You don’t want to admit you’d been infected by the troll disease of friendship as well as red red pity for her.

The important thing is Sollux saw the light, but that kind of infuriates you because, hey, you were too good for him to be your kismesis, and whatever made him want to be your kismesis was probably something stupid. But that thought made you smile because that’s exactly why he made such a good kismesis. Even thinking of why he’d want to make you his kismesis made you frustrated.

But you still don’t know why. Not really. It all seemed kinda out of the blue, like a joke. Maybe you were thinking that because he didn’t really seem like Sollux when he approached you, making snarky remarks like usual, but he seemed more... free. It was almost like he was just having fun with his anger instead of simply being frustrated. You suppose the weirdest thing was how he did all the talking. You retorted, of course, but he really did all the talking.

Then he said “Oh, fuck it,” and grabbed you quite violently and abruptly against him before connecting his lips to yours. It seemed like he wanted to bite more than kiss you, but you suppose that’s what you were supposed to do when kissing your kismesis. You weren’t going to admit it to him, but you’d never kissed anyone before. Including Vriska. Your intimacy with her was confusing and often accidental from the roleplaying (maybe you should’ve kissed her; is that why she got bored of you?).

But you’re sitting in your room now, thinking back to the way you couldn’t help but moan when Sollux moved his hands down your body. You remember how he laughed at that, but you were too turned on then to more than shiver at how cold it’d sounded. That didn’t stop him from nipping at your fin on you face. Your entire body had shook with that; you moaned again despite his reaction the first time: you couldn’t help it. It was just so intense. At that he pulled back from you, and he crinkled his face. You could see him taking in how flushed you were; you could see him judging you for it. He still looked pretty much the same as he did earlier, but that in itself didn’t really fit what you were used to for Sollux.

Maybe you just didn’t know him as well as you thought you did.

But you know that he felt way too much above you for any level of comfort with the way your face felt heated now, and he seemed so unaffected. You wanted to punch him to see his face contort somehow, but you also really wanted to kiss him again.

Time seemed to drag unnessarily on then, before he finally spoke up. You suppose, in hindsight, you probably should’ve said something. Save your dignity in this black solicitation. Truth is, you really were just too flustered. He eventually wasn’t. He lifted your cape off your shoulders slightly, examined it, before letting it drop back into place. His trademark smirk made you feel oddly cold inside instead of the bothered feeling you’d prefer.

“You’re thutch a pretenthuth athole,” he said, completely massacring the s’s. You wanted to mock him for that quickly, an automatic retort, but he pushed you down, hard, to the ground immediately after--before he’d turned to leave you in the room. You decided that, considering the fact there was so much hurt at the whole black ordeal running through your body, you had to at least still say it. So you’d called after him telling him how disgusting his lisp was.

You’re not really sure if he heard. He certainly wasn’t paying attention.

\---

Yeah you really have no idea what made him change his mind. But success, right?

\---

You sought him out yesterday, the day after the first heated encounter, and asked him what it was--what the two of you were. He seemed annoyed at the even thought of you responded to his sudden desire to start a black relationship. It wasn’t like you were the one who initiated it!

You ended up getting really quite hurt by the entire thing. Maybe he had just meant to... kiss you platonically? Maybe he’d just wanted to see you moan then laugh? Maybe that’s all it was about? You decided to be direct.

“You can’t just start kissin’ someone wwithout it fuckin’ being something. Wwhat wwas it evven about?” You put more anger into the words than probably necessary. Or not too much if he’d said yes to being your kismesis, but that declination was probably why there was so much anger in your tone. You don’t want to admit it, but the anger in your tone, if he had said yes, would have been scarcely covering joy.

“You are tho infuriating,” he replied, his words coming out rather quickly. It made you more frustrated and the cold feeling that hasn’t quite gone away in a while intensified. You were not quite sure what you wanted to do about it, but you certainly wanted to act out. He wasn’t saying anything more, so you had to say something instead.

“Do you evven fuckin’ grasp the concept of a quadrant? Or is your mutated head incapable of piecing together wwhat a black relationship is?” you responded. You honestly were wondering if he just didn’t get what it means to want to be someone’s kismesis. And you really had something going on, and you didn’t want that to end.

“Really, ED?” he said, as if everything you did was just completely ridiculous. So ridiculous he wouldn’t even grace it with a proper response. He did, however, smash his lips into yours again, and you let out a gasp as he did so, even less prepared than last time.

What the hell was he playing at?

This time you wanted to make sure he was at least as affected by it as you. You gave as good as you got, biting his lip back then sucking on it. Your hands were rubbing his ear lobes before you pressed your nail in harshly. He retaliated by attempting to do the same to your fins, but as soon as he starts rubbing and applying pressure your face starts heating up, and you pull back from him immediately. You suppose that having sensitive folds on your face is a weakness to a kismesis, and your face heated up more. Sollux looked at you, kinda confused, but then he looked as if he gotit. You’re not comfortable with him touching your fins. You thought that he’d respect it despite the fact this was very pitch.

Your tongue was exploring his mouth, and he really did have a mess of weird double teeth in there (no wonder he lisps). When he gave quite a sharp nip to your tongue, you gasped out. You were so embarrassed by the sounds you ended up making even though there were so few for you were stifling everything. He didn’t even seem to need to. He seemed untouchable.

You hands teased at the back of his neck, and his were currently in your hair. You were glad he was keeping distance from you fins, but god when he pulled at your hair with his teeth biting your lips-well, let’s just say you weren’t not worked up about it. You decided to pull him in closer to you so your chests were less than an inch apart. The extra closeness did something for him, and he let out a small moan when you rubbed your body against his. You suppose small victories are still victories, but after that his hands go back to your fins, and he’s rubbing them, just like you were at his ears earlier. You couldn’t stop moaning now, and you were embarrassed and angry, so you started to pull away. He then stabbed at your right face fin with the tip of claw, and you gave out in pain. It really wasn’t enough to do anything, but damn did it feel like it could. You pushed him away from you quickly, with more force than required. He went tumbling back.

You were so angry. You know you never said anything, but you thought he’d gotten it. But no, your fin still felt painful. He didn’t do much damage at all, but you were more angry at the principle of it. And maybe you were a little more angry about how good it’d felt before hand, when it was soft and you couldn’t stop reacting. He finally looked pleased though, getting up from off the ground.

“Kithmithith? Thure,” he said. He was looking at you with a huge grin on his face. He seemed to appear to think he’d won or something. You suppose he kinda had, but you were too angry to think about what he was thinking without getting angrier.

He left then, again. Smirking as he left. He seemed to radiate so much more confidence than usual. Usually, you could just smell the stench of self-hatred off him. Now that wasn’t true. And now he was your kismesis. And you were already livid.

You still don’t really know how it all started--as in why he chose to start it.

But you do start to realise, after spending more time in your room alone, that the angry feeling boils down to a lot of hurt in the end. You were really hurt by the whole ordeal.

Awh little baby Eridan. Got his feelings hurt.

You laugh and realise he really did one you up, but that’s because you weren’t even sure what the two of you were yet, and you will beat him next time. Though you really doubt it would be possible to make him feel as hurt as he made you feel with his laughter and his sharp nails after soft fingers.

When you’re not alone, you make sure you feel angry instead of hurt since the feeling really doesn’t go away.


	2. Chapter 2

After some sleep and a bit of light war-tactic reading, you pretty much know one important thing: Sollux Captor must never know.

He must never know the fact you’re a huge crybaby and him hurting your feelings caused you to feel more pain than you will ever admit to anyone. Especially him. He will never know the tears you cried when you were alone.

So you decide you should take your losses and run with it. This time you would one up him. You keep waiting for a good enough time before you would go seek him out, but instead he came into your block. You suppose you feel a little better about that. At least you weren’t so fucking desperate for him that you came crawling back. No, you also definitely weren’t obsessing over it for the last few hours. But it didn’t matter how you felt. Because he didn’t know that, and now he was the one coming to you.

“I can’t believe thith rock ith tho boring I’m coming to you,” he says. You smirk at him.

“Just couldn’t stay awway,” you say, as if you weren’t going to go seek him out in a few minutes. It’s the most satisfactory thing you could think of to lord over him.

“I’m tho bored I gueth maybe I can tolerate you now. Even if I’m a thaint for trying to deal with your thit,” Sollux responds. And you’re quite surprised at how much faster he’s talking. If he talked any faster, you wouldn’t be able to make sense of him with his lisp. You decide you should comment on it.

“Gee, Sol. At least usually you just sound retarded. Noww you sound like a fuckin’ intelligible maniac.” He glares as you for a moment, and you feel some sort of strength. Success so far? But he does end up responding, and you notice he did slow down a bit with his speech, but it just made it a little choppier.

“Ever notith how you only ever comment on my lithp or my blood? Almotht like you don’t have any real content. Ith that why no one every hangth out with you? You’re jutht the thame old thit over and over again. At leatht kk hath the dethenthy to thwith it up.” There is too much coldness to his words, and you are totally not going to let on how hard they are hitting you, or how that cold feeling that’s eating you up keeps getting closer to engulfing you and you really don’t need lashes at your lungs or fins right now.

“Last time I checked, you wwere standin’ in my room right noww...” he cuts you off.

“And I theem to be the only perthon here.”

“Yeah, I think that says something about you, not me. I’m not a loser pissblood wwho can’t manage to stay away from his superior,” you say, hoping it comes out enough to do something. He hasn’t really been reacting to anything since the very beginning, and you know that you have been. Because he’s so right. He’s so right and you’re so utterly transparent, and you don’t want anyone to know that, but here comes your fuckingkismesis of two days pointing out just exactly how lonely and pathetic you were.

And you really are afraid he’s going to get bored and leave you right now. And you are scared that if you truly acted as his kismesis it would just make him leave as well. But that didn’t hinder you: he is good at making you react.

“You’re tho embarrathing ed. Why am I even wathting my time on you?” You were wondering yourself; you didn’t understand it. “You don’t even realithe how ridiculouth you thound.”

You decide that you really don’t know how you’re supposed to respond because he’s good at this kismesis thing. But you’re still better than him. You take a couple small steps closer to him so you’re right in his face when you whisper your disconnected response.

“I knoww wwhy you’re here. You couldn’t stand another fuckin’ second wwithout your lowwly hands on my body.” Sollux snickers at you, but then he sees how serious you are and goes quiet. The quietness doesn’t seem to sit well with him at all, and this time you can see the energy build before he snaps and pretty much just runs into you. You stumble backwards and catch yourself, but he then pushes you all the way down to the ground. You can feel your adrenaline rushing. Hell yeah.

“More like beat thome thenthe into you,” he replies. He then says something else, but it’s to quiet and quick and a mess of s’s that you can’t understand, but you’re much too preoccupied by him biting your jawline to pay attention. His body seems to be emulating heat as if it were trying to match the radiation of the sun. If his hands slipped slightly from holding himself just above you, his entire body would be on top of yours. You run your hands down his chest, and he really is emitting heat. Your breath is so ragged as he sucks on your neck, nudging your scarf away, and your body shakes. You retaliate by running your hand along his chest until you find his nipple and pinching it through the fabric of the shirt. You shimmy the hold between your fingers and suddenly he’s moaning and has lost concentration on sucking your neck, but he’s still right above you, and you don’t know if you’ve ever been more turned on in your life. You just want to make him lose his balance, to have all his warmth smother you. You bite the top of his ear, but it’s a rough spot to get. You can hear the way his breath responds though, despite how he pushes you back into the ground.

“We could pail right now,” he decides to tell you before rolling his hips into yours. You gasp in at that and can’t stop yourself from lifting your legs to try to grind against him more. He laughs, and you’re nearly too desperate to feel the cold. His eyes are completely on yours now, mix-matched and intense, his glasses slipped down his nose. His body violently jerks--nothing of your doing--before he continues. “But we won’t.” He pushes off the floor, off you, and laughs at your befuddled expression. It feels like there’s something wrong with his laugh, it’s too off, too unbridled.

“Nithe chat ED. Now you can get back to being not-lonely,” he says. You’ve pushed yourself into sitting position, but he leaves before you even get off the ground.

After he leaves, you examine all the data: you know you’re not obsessed with the science of it like Karkat is, but you’re pretty sure this is all going pretty well for a healthy black relationship.

But you’re just frustrated, horny, hurt, and hollow.

\---

You decide destruction is the best outlet for your anger. Because Sollux is right. He’s stupid and probably kinda crazy and annoying and you don’t know why you give him the time of day--but he’s right. You’re so fucking lonely. Everyone’s kinda done with your shit. You’d message Karkat, but he’s probably too busy talking with the humans. You feel you chest twinge in jealousy. Great, now you’re just angrier. You go to the most secluded part of the asteroid you can find and shoot little holes into the walls. As time treks on, you just end up kicking the walls, but the result is just feeling tired and sad.

This is so stupid. Kismesistude is stupid. Or maybe it just is for you because you were born to die. After all your effort the only quadrant you have is making you miserable. Or maybe that’s just what kismesistude is. Maybe Sollux feels like you do too, but you are probably just being sensitive. And melodramatic. That’s probably it. But that thought just kinda makes you feel worse.

You’re hating Sol more and more, and you suppose your relationship progressing just fine, but you don’t really want to do this at all. You suppose you do kinda wanna rip Sollux’s head off. And you do want to reduce him to a pathetic state of moaning while you kiss him down his body. Okay, so maybe you did like him black just fine too. But you were still hating all of it and this stupid situation and the way you really did feel over your head.

If this were a competition, which it kinda feels like it is, you would be losing horribly. But you’re kinda starting to care less about that. You’re kinda distracted by that cold feeling drowning you.


	3. Chapter 3

Everything is happening so much, and you’re not sure entirely how to deal with it since you’ve been wasting your time away, an unhappy lonely mess, for the last few weeks. Sollux  _ messages  _ you, and you’re not quite sure how you can deal with that because it might just be the first time someone has messaged  _ you _ in a while. You’re more excited than you want to admit at being able to respond to whatever banter he’s about to throw at you.

TA: how wa2 playiing wiith your bulge after ii left diid ii mii22 you cryiing?

Perfect. You are beginning to type a great retort, but he beats you to it, messaging you again before you even get a chance.

TA: thii2 ii2 poiintle22 vk re2ponded liike 2o much quiicker   
TA: are you 2tiill 2tiimulatiing your pathetiic 2hame globe2 your hand2 all undulatiing liike the perfect piicture of royalty   
TA: iim laughiing at how riidiiculou2 thii2 iimage ii2 in my head ed   
TA: and youre 2tiill not repliing ii bet that2 why   
CA: wwhoa you were talkin to her?  
TA: he fiinally answer2  
TA: and yeah we were iin the miid2t of a deep dii2cu22iion about how lamentable you are  
TA: eheheh no we werent neiither of u2 care enough about you  
CA: Sol sloww dowwn howw are you typin so fast   
CA: an before you say it i am not having trouble because i am stimilatin my autoerogenous shame globes wwhat the hell   
TA: ii am bored of thii2 conver2atiion already   
TA: why are you 2o boriing two talk two   
CA: you are not givvin me a chance to respond   
CA: and if you really went to her to talk to then obvviously you are kinda messed up for wwhat a decent convversation looks like   
CA: wwhy wwere you evven talkin to her   
CA: sol   
CA: you are so ridiculous    
CA: wwhos not respondin noww   
CA: SOL   
CA: i cant BELIEVE the level of indecency you havve   
CA: or are you genuinely INCAPABLE of holdin a simple convversation   
CA: i bet thats it   
CA: you are just not capable   
TA: oh my god youre 2tiill there

twinArmageddons [TA]  ceased trolling  caligulasAquarium [CA]

You’re shocked by how badly it went. You can’t believe the gall of him. And you’re still a little shocked he was talking to Vriska before you. You tell yourself that was just him messing with you, knowing she was your ex-kismesis, but you’re too frustrated by his complete real lack of interest in you.

But he certainly must have  _ some _ sort of interest in you when his hands were on your body and his lips were on your neck. When he chuckles at your stupidity or when he called you his kismesis. Why wasn’t he talking to you now? You fight a very strong urge not to start messaging him and antagonising him again and again until he finally reacts in a way that makes sense. You succeed in fighting the urge, but very nearly  _ then _ go out to find him and show him what a conversation is through kissing and biting his stupid lips. It’s been a couple hours since you last were with him and that was very brief and went no where, so you think you should probably wait a while before trying to see him again.

Anyways, it’s not like he didn’t come to you after not that long at all last time. Maybe you just gotta wait this out.

But there’s a small part of you that keeps twinging at the idea that he’s moved on from whatever momentary thing you had. Maybe your ex-kismesises will join up together and hate each other, only united in respect for the level of platonic hatred they feel towards you. Wouldn’t that be a show? You pick at a fraying string at the end of your scarf, not even thinking of repairing it for the necessity of its distraction. You end up getting fed up of just sitting here and decide to message Vriska yourself.

CA: vris i knoww i wwouldnt usually grace you wwith my presence of late  
CA: but im gonna ask you a question  
AG: It’s funny 8ecause I already know what this is a8out!  
CA: wwhat  
CA: another one a your stupid irons in the fire  
AG: Yeah, I really do have a lot of those.  
AG: 8ut let me predict how this is going to go.  
AG: “Vvriska you were the 8est kismesis I evver had. I wwant you 8ack.”  
CA: you arent evven the best kismesis i havve had  
CA: are you gonna evven lemme get to my point are you gonna sit there flatterin yourself all night  
CA: wwhat business do you havve with sol  
AG: I can’t understand why my private personal matters are any concern to you, ERIDAN.  
AG: 8ut if it makes you feel any 8etter, all my intentions are 8lack.  
CA: wwhat  
AG: Why else would I use him to get 8ack at Aradia.  
AG: You’re so o8tuse. I don’t know how you didn’t already come to this conclusion.  
CA: howw wwould that make me feel better unless my feelings for that lowwblood piece of shit were red  
CA: and just so you know and dont go make some sort of EMBARRASSMENT out of yourself  
CA: sol happens to have a vvery dashing kismesis already  
AG: I 8et whoever it is doesn’t even compare to me.  
AG: Your information does not change my mind at all.  
AG: At all you hear me.  
CA: fine. go. MAKE an embarrassment of yourself. see if i care  


You take a second before trying to respond more, kinda scared to see what she is about to respond to you. You’re not gonna admit the feeling in your chest.

AG: Just kidding!!!!!!!!  
AG: I don’t care about Sollux at all actually that’s just kind of gross.  
AG: 8ut he told me that you were going to message me about this.  
AG: So I thought why not exchange words again that are as sweet as the delicacy of cotton candy like old times <3<  
AG: 8ut now I think I want to 8lock you until Karkat yells at me again since we need to 8e a8le to communic8 if we don’t pay attention to his ridiculous memos.  
AG: So farewell, my dear sweet ex-kismesis.  
AG: Oh, 8ut also, Sollux said to tell you that just 8ecause your cape make your frame a little more imposing doesn’t mean it’s worth how fucking ridiculous and idiotic it makes you look. He also called you an im8ecile.  


arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]  


You’re left very conflicted, but overall kinda uplifted by Vriska’s badinage. It was more interaction than she’d give you since before you both started the game. And not for lack of trying on your part. But you’re still left awfully confused about Sollux. Did he tell her to mess with you? Was he just playing you on every end, knowing bringing her up would freak you out and make you message her? You can’t even tell. If it were Vriska, you wouldn’t doubt it. Stupid irons in the stupid fire that was put out for you when the stupid game ruined all your aspirations and relationships.

And you look at your stupid cape on your stupid shoulders and realise that Sollux is probably right: it’s not worth the trade off. But you don’t want to take it off, and you kinda wanna prove to yourself that Sollux didn’t ruin it making you feel better so you decide to go to where everyone usually hangs out when they are on their computers. You see Vriska, but she’s too engulfed in whatever she’s doing to look at you. You guess that’s best because the condescending look on your face is so fake right now. Rose and Kanaya are talking to each other, looking pretty immersed in their topics. Kanaya glances at you, but she doesn’t seem to really care about your sudden appearance. She is pretty caught up in Rose.

Sollux isn’t there. You guess you’re disappointed. You guess you kinda thought he would be. But since he’s not there you can prove to yourself that you’re all that with your cape on your shoulders and your fancy scarf and rings. You are better than all the low dwellers or even Feferi with her perfect ability to drop you the second it’s convenient. You’re all caught up in that lovely mindset when you reach your lovely block, thinking about how much Sollux doesn’t affect you and how much better you are than everyone. You’re actually then rather shocked to see him at your block when you return.


	4. Chapter 4

“Vriska thaid you were looking for me?” he starts. You decide to cover your genuine confusion with fake confusion because it would probably appear more dramatic. 

“No. In fact, wwe didn’t speak on anythin evven close to that domain,” you respond, and you’re copying Sollux’s usual smirk for effect. It definitely doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I gueth I thould go then,” he remarks. “Can’t thpend that much time around you or I might jutht ecthplode from ecthpothure to douthineth. I know thith ith thomething you can make fun of me for, but I thtill cannot comprehend why you’d wear thuch an outfit,” his words run off. You’re sitting there with your eyebrows raised at him, but then he continues, as if he hadn’t butchered it enough already. “It’th not like I’m alone in thith. Like honethtly, you’re jutht. Beyond a horrible troll to be around. Ith thith,” he refers to your outfit, which is on point, you may add. “A warning? ‘Beware, you thouldn’t hang out around me. I thuck ath much ath it lookth like I would.’”

“Calm down, Sol. At least I don’t pollute my image wwith your putrid yelloww symbol.”

“It’th a fucking thirt, ED. I don’t think it’th the thame thing.”

“It is wwhen it’s that horrid.”

“Wear it then. Let’th trade outfitth for the day. What’th kithmethithtude if we aren’t torturing each other,” he suggests. You contemplate it and surprised by how honestly giddy the idea of wearing his shirt makes you, despite how much you honestly do think the colour’s ugly--from an aesthetic point of view. And to wear something of such a lowblood? Horrid. But your giddiness overrules that. You’re so down for this. But you try to look disgusted.

“I suppose I could let you borroww my luscious clothing. It’s not you could evver afford it. It’d be a fuckin favvour,” you say. You hope he doesn’t decide that that’s too heavy-handed and pull out of the idea. Because you really do want this to happen. 

“If that’th your way of thaying thure, then take off your  **thitty** cape and thcarf. Do I really have to even wear your colour though?”

“Wwell, I’m gonna be wearin your shirt, so unless you just wwanna go wwithout, I’d recommend it,” you retort. He glares at you, and you smile back at him. You don’t want to admit that you haven’t felt as happy about anything in forever, even if you loathe the idea of taking off your cape and scarf because of how vulnerable it makes you feel, especially your scarf. You try to forget that and give them to him. He’s taking of his shirt, and you try not to take in his thin body and double set of nipples. You don’t say anything about that. You don’t say anything about his chest at all, actually, but soon enough you need to take off your shirt, and you’re rather quite bothered at the idea of him making fun of, even though you’re proud of your status, your gills. Or anything on your chest. You know you definitely have more muscle tone than him, but then you remember what he said to Vriska about looking more imposing with your cape, and you definitely feel more imposing with it and definitely more so with your fucking shirt on. You try not to make your hesitation obvious, though, and slip it off.

“Wow, you actually do have gillth,” Sollux says, and he kinda looks more in awe than anything. Of course he would. He’s just some land dweller trash. You want to retort this back at him, but you’re still kinda caught up in the way he got caught up in your gills. You want to smile, but you know you should just retort snarkily back. Before you do, he grabs your shirt, pretends to gag, then slips it on. It’s a little loose on him. You grab his and slip it on as well. It’s a little snug, but not overly tight, mostly just a pinch in the arms. He’s putting on the cape too, and you’re not going to mention the way that you love the colour complementing his complexion. You do, however mention, that he’s not fastening it right.

“Do you really not knoww howw to fasten a cape?”

“Not had many.” You love the way he’s glaring at you, but that’s so in response to something you said jokingly. You help him, and his glare continues and grows. He then angrily hangs the scarf loosely around his neck. He is definitely not working it well, even if it’s an improvement on his usual attire. Mostly you’re fighting back grinning on just the fact Sollux Captor is wearing your clothes. You wish  _ he _ wore  _ more _ though. Did he actually just wear a t-shirt and jeans? Didn’t he get  _ cold _ ? 

“I regret my dethithonth. I have to look like thith for an entire day?” He looks down at himself in disgust. You’re a little hurt, but it’s easy to push away from the way it sounds just so absurd you can pretend he’s joking.

“Twwenty-four hours.” He snarls. You laugh and decide it’s time to start kissing him. You haven’t been abrupt about making the first move yet, but something about how you’re feeling makes you feel happier and more confident--in a real way--so who cares about rejection or coming off as wanting him more? He’s kissing you back, and even while he’s dominating the kiss in the way he usually does, it doesn’t hurt at all, and you put emotion into it that isn’t anger or controlled hatred.

You remain kissing him for the next several minutes, knowing that you probably were coming across as pathetic in some way, but you can’t help but indulge and you are dizzy and feel like you’re in some sort of spell from all the endorphins. You realise this is the best you’ve felt in years, but you’re not completely sure because it’s hard to think of the past and any moment that isn’t his lips on yours and the ability to concentrate on that and fool yourself into believing there’s something beyond attraction that’s mostly borne from hatred.

You probably could’ve stayed like this for hours, but the universe has to balance itself out. He slapped your face before you even really noticed he’d pulled away. The pain cuts through the fog in your brain, and you’re just left so hurt. You don’t even want to be near him because now it feels so wrong. Why did he have to pull that on you? Why did you have to let your guard down and  _ not _ expect him to do that?

When he starts laughing at the dumbstruck expression on your face, anger builds reminding you of the quadrant the both of you were in (not that you’d ever think of flipping with  _ Sollux _ \--you hated his guts). You snap and aggressively initiate kissing him again, and this time you’re completely dominating it and you push him back some while still engaged, pushing him against the wall. He tries to counter you with rough nips leaving your lips feeling sore and sometimes little splashes of pain colouring your mind, but you refuse to counter, showing him nothing but fervent passion--not aggression. 

“Eridan...” Sollux says, probably frustrated about not being in control of  _ every damn thing _ . You almost want to laugh, probably taken a little bit away with yourself from the high of your anger and the high of kissing him. You remain relentless until your mouth feels dry. The anger seems to be muting, only slightly reinforced by all the little aggressive ways Sollux tries to make it as rough as possible. He mutters your name again and somewhat gives up against it, still kissing you back, but definitely not putting all the effort in to make it quite as vicious. You stop for a moment to look at him and absorb his face and your heart swells, covering up any animosity. He’s the one to stop your revel by kissing you more with his soft lips. You’re taken away by him again, but you’re still the one in control. You suspect he’s probably trying to have you let your guard down again, but no. This time he won’t leave you feeling defenseless like a wiggler. You’re the one to kick his shin when everything is softer and less violent. You don’t even want to anymore at that point--not like you did at the beginning when you planned it. But you can’t be left to look like a complete fool. And you definitely weren’t  _ flipping _ on him.

His reaction is  _ much _ more immediate than your had been, where you’d been fazed and hurt. He pushes you violently, and you go tumbling back, barely catching yourself. But he doesn’t have that same grin on him that he usually does when he’s pushing you around. You think that maybe you finally got under his skin. It feels both wrong and right. You’re vindictive and regretful. You want to laugh at him, but you’re slightly scared by him still and the way his expression isn’t full of levity. But if you two are kismeses that doesn’t mean he just gets to push  _ you _ around.

“Ha ha,” he says, accenting it mockingly. It’s different on him. The energy coursing through him doesn’t appear frenzied but scares you nonetheless. You guess your senses might be a little messed up from all the kissing and all the fear and emotions, but when he comes closer to you again, panic floods your brain and your first instinct is to attack him. Apparently, he was just going to kiss you again, still rather soft but dominating it probably to prove something, but your brain doesn’t quite know how to respond, so you start shaking rather violently. You know you  _ want _ to kiss him; in fact, the fact he still wants to makes you happy in so more ways that one, but you’re shaking nonetheless, and you have no idea why. You guess you just got  _ scared _ . You want to laugh desperately.

“What the fuck, ED?” Sollux asks, pulling back. He doesn’t seem to know how to react to you either. “Fuck thith. I have more important thingth to do anywayth,” he says. You want to protest because this isn’t want you wanted at all--in fact it’s probably the last thing you wanted. But you don’t know how to articulate that, and you don’t want him to tell the dawning realisation that you  _ don’t _ have more important things to do. This is what you want to be doing, being with him. You just want to do that forever. It’s confusing as hell and hurts, but you’re lonely and honestly his company is so important to you. You really don’t want him to leave. You fight through whatever’s making you shake and kiss him anyways. You can  _ feel _ yourself coming off as desperate and you loathe it and you’re terrified because you know he knows it (sure he’s  _ said _ it before) but really don’t want him to leave.

“You’d havve to wwear this lovvely cape wwith wwhatvver you wwanna do,” you say, trying to cover up all your blunders. You’re starting to fear that this relationship may be way out of your hands. Maybe he really is just better than you. Aren’t you worse than everyone? It’s so  _ clear _ to you that that’s true, and you know everyone else can see it too.

“Everyone’th going to want to know what’th wrong with me.” He sighs, as if actually dreading dealing with that. You’re not sure if he means it sincerely or if it was another black dig at you. You don’t respond just in case (and maybe feel really hurt just in case as well). Otherwise, you’d be right on it how it’s a miracle you’re with the likes of him. You kiss him again, and he kisses you back. You realise you were really scared he’d push you away. Again, the kissing was neither rough nor painful, and you realise you have to keep your guard up with him all the time. He seems to be acting especially careful now, and you don’t know what to think of it. You really don’t want it never to end though, and you’re giving him your all back. 

You continue kissing for several minutes just like that, and you have no intention of stopping it with some sudden act of violence, even if you can’t say the same for him. You’re just back where you started: indulging in this. Your mouth is sore from all the puckering, but you couldn’t care less.

But then  _ Sollux _ started shaking, except it wasn’t like you at all. He pushes you violently, but you don’t actually know if it was on purpose or not. He laughs at you and red and blue sparks ignite from his eyes. It’s fucking  _ terrifying _ , and you back off as quickly, terrified. even though. besides pushing you there, he hadn’t really done anything else to elicit fear.

“Why don’t you leave?” he says, and you stare at him. He makes it out shakily and you don’t understand. 

“This is my respiteblock,” you point out.

“You’re tho fucking dethperate to have any quadranth jutht leave with my thirt on,” he says. but you don’t want to... and this is your respiteblock who is he to tell  _ you _ to leave, but the dual toned energy is getting worse and he’s  _ laughing.  _ “ED you’re fucking ridiculouth and thit. Jutht  _ leave _ .”

“Wwhy Sol I really think you should. This is my...”

“You’re abhorrable,” he says, but the thing is  _ you know _ . You know you know you know, and you  _ really _ don’t want the reminder and maybe that’s why you shouldn’t have a kismesis, and you don’t know; you’re thoughts are getting confusing. He makes some sort of effort to move and laughs again. When he speaks to you again, there’s a desperate edge to his voice that you don’t know how to respond to. “ED...”

You flee the room. You just want to stay with him, and you suppose you were trying to convince him to stay with you, but you didn’t know how to respond to his vulnerability because it mirrored something of your own.

You decided not to focus on that and focused on distracting yourself with a good human history book (you’d taken a likely to them), only remembering some of the things he said to you in blurs.

You just wish it weren’t true. You wish you weren’t so desperate and ridiculous and abhorrable... 

You laugh. Maybe that’s why Sollux wanted to be your kismesis. It was just so fucking easy.


	5. Chapter 5

In complete retrospect, you realise you were missing pretty much every piece of information you needed. So many things were happening, and you just had had no clue that they were. All you knew then was that being around Sollux hurt like hell, but you didn’t care. All you knew was you could tell your fabricated self-confidence was drowning in his articulate words, and your nihilism was back in full swing.

You suppose that beyond the fact that you were _desperate_ (as Sollux was never unwilling to remind you, even if _he_ was usually always the one coming to you), you just really sincerely admired Sollux. Something about the way he messed with you made you feel powerful too, even if you couldn’t ever properly match him. You huffed and you puffed, but it was clear to both of you that what you were putting on was a facade. You couldn’t insult Sollux. You just sort of got angry and bellicose and yelled offensive things at him that wouldn’t ever cut through. Truth is, you’re not sure how much you wanted to hurt him. You just mostly did it to keep your kismesitude up (because it meant the world to you, but he couldn’t know that) and reacted to the really rather scalding things he said to you.

Sollux was always full of weird surprises. You’d be kissing or arguing and he’s just start laughing so hard. Sometimes he would just randomly leave without explanation. You’d given up on chasing after him to try to get him to tell you what was going on.

You were actually worried about him sometimes.

A week went by, and he saw you nearly every day. Sometimes he’d message you about how the two of you shouldn’t meet for several days because he was “busy”, but it really was him who’d seek you out.

You loved it.

You loved how the two of you had something together. You loved how he couldn’t seem to get enough of you--even if he did find you sickening, even if he wasn’t afraid to tell you the things others thought of you. You didn’t care if he was destroying you because you still _had him_.

He insults your attire on such a constant basis that you actually feel waves of self-loathing trying to wear it. You still do wear it; you were never not defiant, but it does the opposite of what it used to. It used to be a shield against the emotions it now causes.

You don’t talk to anyone besides him. In reality, that might’ve been a bit strange. Usually you would’ve talked through every bit of everything with Karkat, but Sollux kept you busy, and you never really had any issues with the set up between you and your kismesis. Why complain to Karkat about it? You did message him telling him that Sollux and you were kismeses. His angry caps seemed a little more bitter than usual. He kind of cut you off.

You really don’t know anything about Sollux still, though. He never opens up to you, and in return you don’t to him. You’re kismeses, so you guess that’s normal. You just sort of expect his irrational behavior, even if it sometimes is acerbic and sometimes terrifies you out of both worry for him and legit fear at what he could do to you.

He never uses his psionics against you, so you don’t really ever bring it up to him. You suppose you mostly just don’t want to look as weak as he says you are. You want to talk about it so badly, to understand _everything_ . To have someone who’s willing to confide in you. To have that person be your capricious kismesis who you admire. But you don’t. You were just missing so many pieces, and it’s over a week into your kismesistude, and Sollux seems even more volatile than usual today. It’s usually when you see the red and blue sparks that you know he’s even more out of control. He’s all over the place, originally walking into the room and not even _speaking_ to you, but rather just making out with you before his hands went up to your neck to choke you, laughing. You’d pushed him back, and he just threatened to leave without any intention of it, laughing his maniacal laughter, and kissing you again. Now he’s he’s a few inches away, the sparks terrifying you, his demeanor terrifying you, his existence exciting you.

“Thometimeth you’re okay, ED,” he says. It’s probably among the nicest things he’s ever said to you, and it hits you surprisingly hard in the gut. You feel really warm. It probably shows on your face because then Sollux is laughing. “You’re altho a perfect knight in thining armour who I need to think of to make it through the day,” he adds. You battle the hurt, wondering if he were sincere originally.

“You’re a vvery ugly princess,” you reply. He laughs at that and kisses you more. You drink it in. You’re growing very addicted to kissing him no matter how it is. He always prefers controlling it, controlling you, biting your lips and sinking his claws into your skin or pulling your hair. You don’t care. You love the endorphins and the way it feels. You want all of it to never end. Except the empty, hurt feeling that never seems to leave but only intensifies. His movements right now feel unpredictable and energetic. He’s holding your left hand down and it’s vibrating intensely, actually beginning to hurt your wrist. He breaks off, his breathing rather scarily out of control, and speaks nearly too quickly for you to catch it.

“You’re tho full of thit, ED,” you think you hear him say a couple times over. If you weren’t such a maudlin folk, you’d be too worried to be hurt. Then a more prominent outcry comes, and you definitely pick it up, “Thtop!”

Sollux actually has you inches away from him and between the wall, but you try to give yourself more distance, unaware of what he means by stopping. The two of you weren’t touching, and he’s the one who could give you more room. More sparks are coming from his eyes, and he’s shaking. His breath is still out of control. You wonder if he’s having a panic attack. You’ve had your fair share of those. You’re not quite sure what to do.

“It’s okay, Sol. Calm dowwn. You’re okay,” you say awkwardly. You don’t want to touch him because the desperation in which he’d yelled at you to stop still rings in your ears.

“Pl...eathe... thtop,” he says through weird gulping noises. You’re really starting to freak out. You don’t know what you need to stop doing or if he’s even talking to you anymore.

“Sol!” you rack your brain. “Are the vvoices too loud? Is that wwhat’s happenin’?”

“Don’t pin it on the voitheth you piethe of thit! I can’t believe I let you into my...” he slips, his words making sense only through hard concentration. You want to cry. You really don’t know what you did. It was the exact same thing as usual. You were just kissing, albeit there wasn’t much gentle about it, but you were just kissing like you usually do. You don’t know what happened. Now his hands are around his own throat, and he’s gasping.

“Eridan, why are you doing thith?!” he chokes out. You’re fighting every urge to try to lace your hand down his entrapped wrist on his neck, hold him and tell him he’s okay. You’re scared you’ll just make it worse because he keeps _blaming_ you, but you’re just _standing_ there!

“Wwhat am I doin’? you ask, desperation definitely clear in your voice. You want to tell him you’ll stop, beg for his forgiveness for whatever you could be doing to cause him this much distress. It looks like he’s in agony. But Sollux doesn’t even appear to have _heard_ you.

“WHY ARE YOU DROWNING ME?” he roars at you. You freeze completely, shocked. Tears are running down Sollux’s face. You’re not sure if they’re from exasperation, but you have never hated something tinted with his colour more. You don’t know what to say. From the way he’s still gulping for air, you’re pretty sure he means literally. He thinks you’re _literally_ drowning him.

“Sol, Sol, I’m not,” you make out. There are tears now in your eyes too. You don’t know what to do. You really don’t. You don’t know what to do. The sparks coming from his eyes are crescendoing to something that seems liable to be dangerous. “Sol, you’re okay.”

“You’re killing me,” he says, his voice small, but he’s breathing better now, even if he still thinks that you’re drowning him. You finally decide maybe it’s best if you _do_ try to comfort him. You put your hand gently on his arms, hoping to ground him somehow. He really doesn’t seem to notice.

He stays vacant for too long, too horribly long. Minutes pass, and it feels like days. You don’t say anything more. You just wait, hoping he’s going to come back to you. Hoping you didn’t drown him.

When he comes back it’s in a snap of violent dual toned energy. You feel the blast of his psionics, and you’re thrown violently against the rock wall, your head taking too much of the brunt of it, probably bleeding. Everything is blurry as you watch him leave. He’s shaking, and the blue and red energy is still sparking everywhere.

He’s gone, and you’re shaken and confused.

\---

It takes him exactly two hours to message you again. You’re terrified to answer, terrified he’s hurt, terrified _you_ hurt him.

TA: why would you fuckiing do that 2 me ED you murderou2 piiece of 2HIIT    
TA: fuck you. 

It takes you a moment to properly digest what he’s saying. What he means. You feel like you’re going to throw up. There’s matted blood in your hair because you refused to get it out.

CA: Sol, i didnt try to hurt you. that wasnt real. 

You drop the accent and hope he understands you’re being honest and serious.

TA: lyiing about iit ju2t make2 iit wor2e   
TA: dont do that 2 me 

You laugh. He doesn’t want to know he’s finally lost it. But you’re laughing maniacally like he does yourself to your empty room, so you guess you’re not too far off either. But at least you’re not fucking hallucinating.

You don’t reply again to Sollux. You don’t want to fight over what was real and what wasn’t. You don’t want to make it worse. You don’t want to think about how hurt he looked, how scared and betrayed. You don’t want to think about it at all. You decide to go for a walk. It’s not until you see Karkat talking to Dave and Rose about something that you realise that what you really wanted was to see Karkat, to confide in him. He’s the closest thing to a friend you have, even if everything between the two of you feels torn up and strained.

You see him glance at you; you see him take in the welling tears in your eyes. You see his expression turn to a scowl, and you swear you see him mouth “ _again?”_ in Alternian. You don’t know what he’s talking about. About talking to him again? Were you not supposed to? Or were you not supposed to come to him like a whiny, overdramatic wiggler with your problems? He isn’t your moirail; no one deserves that burden. You feel like you’re choking. You don’t know what you did this time to ruin everything. You just can’t figure it out.  

It’s not like Sollux and you hadn’t been in duels that could’ve ended up near life-threatening before, but for some reason you don’t think you’ll _ever_ rid yourself of that look on his face. You don’t know what to do. You don’t know how to live with the memory. You just desperately need to talk about it with someone, but the only person beside Karkat that you could would be Sollux. And you can’t. You don’t know what to do. You want this out of your head.

You hide back in your respiteblock and spend approximately four hours playing chess against yourself. You kept losing. After that you go to bed, exhausted and hollow and scared. How are you supposed to fix something you didn’t do?

You’re colder and emptier than you think you’ve ever been, even with the fancy, rather ostentatious duvet covering you. You can’t stop sobbing occasionally, wishing more than anything that you could take what you hadn’t done back.

You hear something open the door to your block, and you freeze. Your gun is by your bed, and you could be armed in a second, but you don’t go for it. You just stay still, unable to breathe. Everything today’s just been crashing down on you, tearing you apart. You’re drowning yourself. Your gills are bound, and you’re drowning.

“ED?” you hear someone whisper. What? Has he come to try to kill you in return? It takes your bitter mind a second to realise that that could actually be a possibility. He could actually try to kill you, and you’re not going to do anything to stop him because you are too exhausted. It doesn’t matter. You should be dead anyways. You prevent a sob from shaking your body. You hear shuffling, and your mind kicks into instinct mode before you realise you’re okay with dying: your heart is racing, preparing for you to race to get your gun. You feign being asleep.

Sollux does something you really were not expecting. He climbs into your bed with you (it occurs to you he may never have even slept in a human bed before, but the thought is so abstract you get too lost to dwell). You’re too still now, too still to even be asleep, but you hope you have him fooled. You actually kind of hope he chokes you in your sleep, even if your instincts don’t.

Instead, you feel a tentative arm slide over your waist. It’s burning heat compared to you which makes your cold body respond the same way your mind does. With craving and relief. Sollux’s arm is barely over your body, but it’s still there, touching you. You realise he must’ve realised that he was hallucinating. Was this way of apologising? Or was he still going to kill you when he knew you were actually asleep? You decide you don’t care because, despite everything, you haven’t felt this safe ever. The pressure of his arm, which you bet will probably make it more difficult to sleep, is the most comforting thing you’ve ever experienced. You realise this is probably the real most intimate thing you’ve done. The reddest. You don’t care. You want it so badly.

You start to feel Sollux shaking a bit behind you, and you know he’s probably crying. You fight every urge to turn around and hold his face and comfort him, but you’re terrified you’ll scare him off. And you need this more than you want to admit. You’re so greedy, and this is what you want. You want this. You want his arm around you as if he cares for you, as if he could love you.

Sollux comes in closer to you, and you can feel his face pressed against the back of your shoulders. He’s so close you don’t know how you’ll ever sleep. You wish you could just turn and kiss him. You wish you could treat him like a moirail to make him feel better, calmer, and smile, and like a matesprit because _oh_ did you like him red. Not that you were flipping. The idea of you and him... oh what’s the use of thinking that when he’s right there and you’d do anything to gently kiss him and love him.

You don’t want to think about what’s going to happen in the morning. You don’t want to think about the fact that Sollux, if he isn’t planning on murdering you, is just at his most vulnerable now and needs someone, and for some ludicrous reason he chose you. You don’t want to think about how he’s going to revert to a black relationship, if there’s even any hope of that, or worse, nothing, after this is all over. You don’t even _care_. You care about his arm around you. You care about his body touching yours. You care about the fact he’s not shaking anymore. The fact he’s there beside you. The fact you can just pretend that this is the way it’s meant to be. You care about all of that, and you just let that be your future. The false feeling of love. The real feeling of Sollux Captor’s arm around you. The way your brain can finally take a break.

You were wrong, though. It didn’t take that long for you to fall asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

When you wake up, you don’t even have to look behind you to know he’s gone. You feel the empty space at your back and try to convince yourself that  _ you _ aren’t the one hallucinating. Maybe you were delirious from hitting your head a little too hard, but you can’t convince yourself of that (even if it’s true that when you touch the back of your head it’s still crusty and extremely tender).

You log into trollian to see if Karkat (or Sollux) has messaged you. Karkat hasn’t, and if you hadn’t spent that last week believing what Sollux had said about you and how others viewed you (and you took it probably all way too seriously) then you probably would’ve initiated the conversation yourself.  _ However _ , Sollux  _ did _ message you, so you didn’t have to deal with all the nothingness surrounding you. But he only said two words. Of course it would be two with him.

TA: iim 2orry.

You decide to message him back immediately, but then you realise you don’t know how. Your instinct is to tell him it’s okay. To ask him again and again for more answers because you’re  _ confused _ . To demand them, but only out of some crazy want of yours to help. Your instinct is to comfort him. But you know that’s not right.

Should you lord it over him? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do as a kismesis? But that seems too cruel right now, and even if it wasn’t, you couldn’t. Not after seeing his scared face. Maybe he is insane, but it’s obviously something you’re not to poke at him for, even if he had a knack for knocking at your own insecurities. 

You honestly don’t know what to do. So you don’t reply. And that’s a pretty rare thing for you to do. At least it would’ve been, but it probably also would’ve been rare for you not to reach out to others as much as you haven’t been lately. It’s crazy what some mixed up memories from before the reset layered with guilt and blurriness can do to a person. You learnt your lesson. You’re maturing, and you don’t need to bother people who don’t want to be bothered. You’re not worth it.

You wonder if Sollux wants you to bother him right now. Because just because you didn’t want to annoy someone else, if they wanted you to, you would in an instant.

You sit there contemplating, glad of your new ability to not say everything, until you succumb thirty minutes into it and decide to message Sollux a quick one-liner back. But then you remember more of the stuff he’s personally said to you, and you find more strength in your lovely new ability. You erase your question:  _ wwhatre wwe? _

You decide you should try to figure some way to entertain yourself today. There’s really not much, and you envy people who have more people than one capricious, crazy kismesis in their lives. This asteroid fucking sucks.

You spend maybe a couple too many hours distracting yourself with a book Rose gave you (you had one conversation together here: she was annoyed at you because of your horrible attitude and way you treated her, but interested in your interests. She gave you a book. You haven’t talked since), and maybe scrolling back through yours and Sollux’s conversation whenever you were checking to see if he messaged you again. Just because  _ you _ weren’t going to message him doesn’t you couldn’t obsess over it. You get a little upset while doing this fun task, but it definitely helps curb the boredom.

You are lucky enough that Sollux can’t stay away from you. Pride wells in you in such a way you feel a little more like yourself. The funniest thing is you aren’t even in your respiteblock when he finds you, which you had been all day. You were in another block that had a white board which some times people used to project movies and whatnot onto. It was mostly empty, and you were just sulking in there to prove to yourself you didn’t just stay in your own block all day. You have a nagging suspicion he did not just happen to come across you by chance, alluding to the option he put actual effort into finding you.

“Finally, I thwear you try to be difficult,” he says upon seeing you. You don’t respond to it. Seeing him makes everything seem kind of dim because he takes up your mind with his presence. He’s so real. You don’t know how to go about saying anything that you want to say. “Why are you tho quiet? Where’th that inability to thut up that we’re all tho uthed to?”

“Wwhat do you wwant, Sol?” you ask. You don’t want to admit that you’re a tad bit suspicious. He takes a deep breathe.

“Everything wath a joke. You’re more gullible than I thought to athume otherwithe,” he says. His brow is furrowed, and he seems agitated (when isn’t he agitated?). He waits for your response. You guess you’re kinda worried about any of your responses scaring him or making him think you’re hurting him. That thought remains to terrify you, but you speak up, addressing the subject matter at hand. You’re scared he means your entire relationship, but you guess that’s worse case scenario. But what if it was all a joke? The thought burns at you more than the thought of the fact Feferi had only been in a moirailship with you because she felt it was her responsibility.

“Wwhat are you talkin’ about?”

“What do you think, idiot?” he pauses and probably noting your unsureness. “I definitely honethtly thought you tried to drown me in the middle of thpathe with no real water when we weren’t even  _ near _ any thmall thourthe. It definitely wathn’t a joke,” he says, rushing through it, but you’ve gotten quite good at distinguishing his words. You shiver. You suppose you’d prefer believe that than believe that he  _ did _ believe it, but nothing about it sits right. 

“Sol, you looked so scared,” you admit quietly, your voice probably laced in some of your pain and regret. He opens his mouth to retort before you think your words really hit him, and he snaps his jaw shut, quiet besides a light, fast tapping of his fingers on his jeans.

“Jutht forget it?” he finally responds, his own voice a little weak. His demeanour makes you nervous; he’s fidgety but  _ scared _ , tense. Maybe regretful? If he did fake all of it, you suppose he should be. It really is fucking you up and was completely out of line. But you remember his face, his desperation. He’s just trying to cover it up. You nod, after being lost in thought for a minute. He breaks into a big grin. A big, mischievous grin, moving up and down a bit at the edges. His smirks usually don’t do that. He turns and begins to leave.

“Wwoww, Sol, wwhere are you goin’?” you ask.

“I told AA I’d be right back. The’th muth more fun that your dumb ath,” he says. You try not to look a little forlorn. You very well fight the urge to ask him if she’s his matesprit. It wouldn’t be surprising; you know they’ve both had a meaningful relationship for years and years, and it seemed like his interest in Feferi has gone away... even if your memory on that is blurry. “ED? Thee you later?” he asks. You suppose you failed at not looking forlorn. Sollux actually looks rather concerned. You meet his eyes (or rather glasses which he so  _ rarely _ takes off) and nod. You wish  _ you _ had someone else to hang out with in the meantime. He leaves, but you just sorta stay in the room. You could read more, which you basically have been doing for a great portion of the trip. You especially enjoyed reading human stories, even if they were far fetched fantasy (though something about history always intrigued you. Maybe it was the way the death of a few for the lives of so many could look romanticised, maybe it was idolising someone who did exactly what you did, maybe...). You absent mindedly wondered if you should try to continue on a friendship with Rose due to that, but you guess you already screwed that up like you did with all your other relationships. You may not remember much of what was said precisely, but you know it failed and she blew your computer up. You wish you’d at least stayed away from talking to the humans before the reset. You're pretty sure you messed all your options up.

You spend the next hour staring at the wall, literally. You take in all the imperfections and find your mind alternating between feel connection to their imperfection, and disconnection and contempt for them. You deserve to see better than it since you deserved the best; you were what wasn’t good enough. You guess you probably did cry several times, but that’s not a notable occurrence.

You try not to let your mind get drawn towards the obvious. Towards your kismesistude that you hate to its very foundation, to the meaning of what it is. Towards your kismesis who’s now losing it and who you already weren’t really okay with being with besides. Towards your kismesis who you just want to help. You don’t want to think about anything to do with Sollux Captor. You hate him. You hate him so much that it eats up every part of your being, or at least in this very moment it does. You hate how good he is and how his pure  _ essence _ covers you up. You hate how he has so much of you, and you can’t do anything about it. His being has so much to it, and you’re nothing. You’re all those imperfections. 

But then you’re the opposite of those. You’re far too good for him. Far too good to be his kismesis.

Your sense of self has never made less sense. 

And as much as you tried to get a kismesis, you question whether, at its very core, that concept was ever made for you.

You’re too screwed up for that. You’re too important for that. You’re too delicate and pathetic and  _ broken _ for that. You’re too unparalleled for anyone to match.

And so it goes around and around in your head.

All those imperfections.


	7. Chapter 7

Sollux comes back, and you’re still lost in thought. You haven’t moved at all in the last two hours.

“What’th up with you and thith room? You never even watth thingth with uth,” he says. You take him in. He seems calmer than usual, less scary blue and red sparks. Less fidgeting.

“Wwhat’s up wwith your obsession wwith blue and red? Are you tryin’ to getta my colour of vviolet? Because if so, you’re failin’,” you say.

“I find it completely incontheivable I’m acthully putting in time and effort into being around you,” he says, and he seems sincere about it. 

“Wwell, maybe wwe’re destined,” you say, and you try to let yourself believe it, envision it in it’s full meaning. “It seems just like what the fuckin’ univverse wwould do. Make  _ you _ my kismesis. It wwould make sense since it’s outta fuckin’ get  _ me _ ,” you say. Then you think of last night, and you find yourself flush. Yeah, the universe definitely hates you. Especially since you’re both pretty sure this is a doomed timeline anyways. At least, that’s what you’d heard Feferi say forlornly just after the reset (coincidentally the last time you saw her. It was a bit too painful. She hadn’t even looked at you.). You don’t know why she’d know, maybe something to do with the dreambubbles, but you trust her.

“The quadranth matter to me about as muth as you do,” he responds. The sparks are coming back in his eyes, and they’re shooting out in red and blue. He remains calm, though, which is unusual. Usually they mirror anger. Besides the psionics, he seems nearly normal.

“If you’re referrin’ to vvery little, you just mean you couldn’t evver get anyone in your lousy quadrants. Except me, who must be deranged for such a thing,” you say. You gear for his response, hoping he’s not going to retort about the red quadrants he’s filled. Not that you’re interested. Not that you care.

The psionics are getting worse. He still appears horribly calm.

“Sol, are you alright?” you ask. He shrugs.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I be?” You shrug and chew on your lip a little. He’s still standing by the door, and you’re still across the room by the dreaded, imperfect whiteboard. You wonder why he’s keeping his distance.

“Howw wwere you and Aradia? Does she knoww you’re a fuckin’  _ psycho _ ?” you ask, knowing it’ll goad a reaction. You weren’t expecting such an extreme one. Before he even makes a move towards you, he shoots a psychic blast at you which knocks the wind out of you. Then he walks over to you, and you laugh. “Still dunno if that’s a yes or if you’re scared...” 

“AA wouldn’t give a fuck you turgid brinethucker. The’th not tho thuperthiliouth,” he says. He’s shaking now. You successfully unveiled his placid front. You honestly do wonder if he’d put it on for Aradia.

“So no?” you prod. He raises his arm and pushes your forehead with great force back into the wall in a continuous sweep. It hits, not terribly hard if not for the lump already there. It’s not until you’re seeing right does he start to kiss you. 

“Always,” you say, trying to get your words out in between the kissing. “Pushing me,” he bites at your lip, scratches down your arm, and it  _ stings, _ even through your shirt. You crave it though; you crave his contact. “Up against walls.” You strong-handle him and flip positions, pushing him up against the whiteboard. “Switch it up?” you ask, and you smile when you see him taking all the parts of your expression in. You discover the sparks don’t electrocute you even when they seem as out of control as they are. And he looks it too, turbulent. He pushes you back and swings you back around.

“You’re tho lovely the wall can’t thtand the lack of you,” he says. You laugh. More like he can’t stand the lack of you. More like you can’t stand the lack of him.

“At least I’m not bringin’ it to bed wwith me,” you provoke, but you never really meant to say it. You’re more bitter than you thought, you guess. He freezes at the statement. You moan at the lack of tongue prying into your mouth. He then tries to shove you abruptly down, all his weight on your shoulders, but you remain standing. It seems to make him more frustrated. You feel yourself being flung around then down onto the ground, your head making further impact with the floor. You move to get up, but find yourself trapped. Sollux is using his psionics against you. But the two of you are not dueling. You’re defenseless and impounded. 

“ _ Sollux _ ,” you give out. He kicks the bottom of your foot, but it doesn’t really hurt. The lack of immediate pain doesn’t stop the fear from him towering over you, holding your limbs into the ground with his psychic energy that’s flashing colours and sparking about him. You’re scared. You’re terrified. “Sol, don’t trap me.”

He doesn’t respond, but he does walk over to your hand, laid vulnerable stretched out. Immobile. You can still speak, you register. Your mouth can still move. He steps on your hand, granted probably with minimum weight, and you cry out. It’s sharper than you would’ve imagined. You’re only wearing one ring--one with fuschia--and it gets pinched when he applies more pressure to take his foot off.

Blinded in trying to cringe away from pain while immobile, you realise how awful everything is. Your relationship with him is awful, this excluded. You hate yourself for things you never expected to hate yourself for. You’re insecure and a mess, even more so than usual. And now he’s losing it, but you didn’t leave before when it was making you feel like shit. Why would you now that he’s actually going insane?

“Sol, this isn’t funny,” you say. He doesn’t seem to have heard you. He prods your body with his shoe, and you just  _ wish _ he was at least at your level, that he wasn’t above you, towering. You’re scared. He’s not in his right state of mind, and your hand is  _ screaming _ .

“Wwhat?” you goad. “Literally gonna kick me wwhen I’m dowwn? That’s seems ta be your wway noww, doesn’t it?”

He still seems unresponsive. It’s frightening. He doesn’t kick you, though. He leans down till he’s kneeling above you. You hate it. Doesn’t he get how this isn’t fair? How is this healthy for a kismesistude? You’re supposed to be equals, but you can’t even move.

He straddles your hips and starts kissing you, and while that is something you have in your complete capability to do back, you’re unresponsive. You hate this. You hate how it feels. You feel sick, and every time he touches you, you feel even more so.

“What the fuck, ED?” he says, noticing how passive you’re acting.

“Sol, stop,” you reply, while wasting more needless energy fighting the psionics. Why isn’t he  _ understanding _ ? It’s like he’s not even there. “Let me  _ move _ .”

He doesn’t. He squints at you like you’re not making sense before kissing you again. When he pauses for a second, you try to spit up at him, but it ends up just dribbling down your own bottom lip. He laughs and wipes it off, his finger trembling. It isn’t until now you realise just how  _ violent _ his shaking is. The pressure of him on you lets you feel the way he jolts.

“I  _ hate _ you,” you hiss out at him. He smiles, and you’re so angry because  _ no _ , you  _ don’t _ want this. You  _ hate _ it. You  _ don’t _ mean to goad him on.

He starts kissing you again, his hands travelling down your chest. You just lay there, tired and angry. You hate how you still like the feeling of his body against yours, his hands on you, even when you  _ hate _ everything about it. You’re  _ repulsed. _

“Sollux,  _ stop, _ ” you exclaim, more desperate than before, as you begin to freak out at how much he’s  _ touching  _ you while you’re helpless. He freezes this time, or at least freezing his voluntary movements, and appears to examine you. You see his glance meet your eyes, and he probably can see the tracks of tears that have decided to join the party. You’re so vulnerable and helpless. 

The second you feel the psionics let up, you spring at him. All you see anger. You’re punching him, not with any tact but just  _ force _ . You can’t stop. You won’t stop. And he’s not really even stopping you. You’re too caught up in the moment to wonder why he didn’t push you back with his power. You’re too caught up in the moment to wonder anything about anything.

“I’m gonna make you bleed that  _ putrid sludge _ colour,” you snarl. “I hate you!” you all but scream, and it doesn’t even occur to you that you could draw attention if anyone was near by. You don’t care. You don’t care about  _ anything _ ; you just want to  _ destroy. _

He’s on his back now, like you were, but he can move. He could push up against you or send you flying backwards with the power of his  _ mind _ . You hate it. You punch his face again, it colliding with your fist delightfully. It probably hurts more hitting him than he even hurt you, but you don’t even care. He’s bleeding now. A disgusting yellow liquid stemming from lip.

The fact  _ he’s _ not  _ using  _ his psionics, that doesn’t stop them from blasting from him. You take all their rushes as if they were just wind knocking into you. He doesn’t stop you when you jab again into his stomach. You hear him grunt out in more pain, and it  _ entices _ you.

“Eridan.. thtop,” he says finally, weak, after you’ve hit his face twice and battered his body enough. You do; you collapse, suddenly drained by his choked request. You’re on top of him, and your breathing is crazy. He’s jolting a bit still, but he’s also static. After the anger floods from your mind, you’re left so empty and rather confused. You push off him and crumple beside him in worry of your weight hurting him.

The guilt you feel mirrors a memory you can’t probably reach, and you  _ really _ feel like you’re going to be sick now. He’s okay, mind you; he’s okay and just hurt, but he’ll survive. But you’re scared because if you had had a weapon, if you had had the power, you don’t trust what you would’ve done.

“Wwhy didn’t you stop me?” you ask, staring up at the ceiling and noticing how uneven the rock is.

“Doethn’t matter,” he replies. He coughs a little, and you really hope he’s not coughing up blood. You want to apologise--and you will, you know you will--but there’s still an underlying resentment towards him that prevents you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t see your desperation or consternation while he trapped you and wouldn’t stop. You turn onto your side to face him better.

“Wwe’re good, right?” you ask tentatively. He turns his head to look at you, and you swear you see fondness in his features. Something about that lights up joy inside you, brimming so much at the surface you don’t know how you contain it. Oh. That’s probably why you never ended it. Suddenly, everything feels framed differently. You remember his face when he smirked and confirmed you were caliginous together, when you switched outfits and he was wearing your cape. You don’t see anything tainted in any of it, even if you kinda know it is. You don’t think of the way you’re not even wearing your cape right now because you keep remembering how it does the opposite of make you look dignified. All you see is all the times he’s sneered at you harmlessly and sought you out because you  _ do _ mean  _ something _ to him.

“Thure, ED,” he responds. You can’t hide your smile. He smirks. “Chumbucket,” he says to the ceiling, the “ch” sounding like a t. You hit him light on his shoulder and breathe out, noticing you hadn’t been, noticing how tense you still are.

“Hey!” you respond, offended. There’s no menace in your voice, but you are a little hurt at the terminology. He chuckles his weird chuckle. You lie in silence together for a bit before more sparks, which had subsided for a little, began to start up again, along with his inability to stay still. He turned on his side to face you too. 

You decide now would be the  _ perfect _ time to do something you’d been meaning to do for a while--rip those bloody glasses off his face. So you do, and you’re shocked by the intensity of his contrasting eyes. He sighs and tries to reach for them back. You throw them aside, well aware it wouldn’t be hard for him to retrieve them without even moving. He doesn’t. He seems a little more unnerved, though. Like your ability to look into his insane eyes made  _ him _ feel vulnerable when it was  _ you _ who was lying beside him, absorbed into concentrated, saturated slates of red and blue with matching sparks being emitted. Screw him lying next to you in bed,  _ this _ was the most intimate thing you’ve ever done. Because you? You’ve been open and vulnerable throughout the entire ordeal. Everything he says to you cuts through, and he sees right through all your bullshit, so you never had anywhere to hide when he cut you down. Now you were looking at him, and he seemed uncomfortable by it. You knew he was feeling naked the same way you nearly always did.

“Gee, ED, done thoul-thearthing?” he asks, and you let out a bitter laugh. You aren’t. But you try not to pay as much attention to his eyes. It’s not like yours would even be capable of distracting him. They’re basically the same as every other troll’s; your purple’s yet to even come in (you’re not quite 8 sweeps old). Obviously not as lost in track about eyes, Sollux sits up, grunting in pain in the process. It reminds you of how you lost control, and you feel the guilt and self-loathing start up again. You still don’t apologise. You feel sick, nauseous even. You still don’t address it. You mutter something under your breath though; something bitter that probably shouldn’t have been said. “ _ Just gonna go. _ ” You see him shaking a bit again. You realise that he probably has no idea what he’s doing either, no idea what he wants. You wish you knew the first thing of what was going on inside his head. You hated to admit it, but you’re also just genuinely concerned. Because you hurt him, and he hurt you. He let you and you were genuinely scared, genuinely not wanting it to happen. You don’t know where each of you stand, but you can guess him slipping onto of your lap and kissing your neck isn’t going to solve any of those complications. Everything he does seems unpredictable yet planned. You don’t know how to take it. Soon enough, you mind is lost, and all you can pay attention to his him and what  _ he’s _ doing. All your concerns seem to disappear. 

“You moan tho eathily,” he says. You were trying so hard to be silence. You kiss his hairline then his eyes, gentle. He’s still so harsh still, so jagged like he’s cutting you up like the way he’s cutting you up inside.

He’s the one to lift off your shirt. You’re cold and afraid when he puts his hands down your nipples then your gills, minding his claws, minding that he doesn’t hurt you. You move into him, feeling your bulge rub against his. You hear him give out a small moan as you do. You lift off his shirt too. He stops you at the beginning, as if you weren’t sitting there with so many gills exposed, just waiting for claws to rip through them. It’s not like you didn’t know he had double nipples. For a minute you find it fun to tease his nipples and between the two where they separate which seems to be extra sensitive for some reason. You’re surprised by how he lets you. He seems lost in it all himself, before he pushes you down onto the ground, holding your hands above your head. He’s shaking more now, and you’re upset because he’d been eons calmer when he let you touch him.

He was kissing your face, his body on top of yours rubbing up against you, still holding your hands above your head. It wasn’t until he was tracing kisses down your body and at your stomach that he let go. You saw him unbuttoning your pants from far away yet so close, your mind hyper aware of everything he was doing, your mind in a fog. 

“Your thtupid panth are tho tight,” he comments. You want to laugh at that, but you almost feel like you’ve been calmed by a moirail despite the amount of nips and roughness Sollux did, despite the fact he was treating you just like he should: like his kismesis. You mutter out how you hate him under your breath, but there’s no real animosity in it. He seems to remember the fact there’s an unlocked door, and you hear a lock switch before he successfully slides your pants down. When he takes your bulge in your hands, you decide he’s asking for this, and you decide to stop trying to not react to everything he’s doing. He doesn’t comment as you gasp out; in fact, he just leans down and takes your bulge in his mouth.

You still, unable to figure out what to do with the intense sensation. It’s hot and warm, and you’re body’s tense in the best way it’s ever been. He’s moving his mouth, and you really don’t know what to do. You’re pushing up and his fingers trace the outlines of your nook. You’re losing it, your breath everywhere, moaning out his name  _ “Sol... Sol... _ ”. You’d be embarrassed, but he  _ is  _ doing this to you. He is the one doing this to you. He decided this. You’re just going with it, flowing with him. Moaning out his name. The sensations remind you of everything that is him, that it’s  _ Sollux _ , and you don’t know what to do. You’re hands are in his hair. It’s slightly greasy, but perfect.

It’s an accident when you say it. You’re too focused on him, and it was just there repeating in your head again and again. “ _ I love you _ ,” and  _ he  _ stills. But you need more friction than that. You can barely feel any difference, but your body does, if that makes any sense. He continues, and you try to pretend you didn’t say it because maybe then he will too, and the two of you don’t have to address anything that would end in rejection. You hate rejection. But this isn’t rejection right now. This is over your head sensations. It elevates and elevates. You’re flying; it’s intense, so intense. You know you’re about to come, so you pull away, but Sollux refuses to move until the last second. It takes no time for him to get a bucket out of his captchalogue, but you still can’t get in place in time and there’s genetic fluid, just a bit, staining the ground. But you don’t care. You’re blinded by euphoria. 

When you’re done, everything is brilliantly clear. You do up your pants and get a rag from your captchalogue (Sollux says nothing about how it doesn’t take  _ you  _ 0 seconds to get it out) to clean things up a little more. You’re kinda nervous on what to say, but your main concern is regarding Sollux and prominent lump in  _ his _ pants. You started kissing him again, loathing the taste of you, but loving the taste of him. 

When you go for his jeans, he freaks out and pulls away. You stare at him, depth in his deep eyes, and you see fear. You don’t understand because when you grab his bulge through his jeans, he moans and pushes into your hand. You love the sound he makes; it’s short and stifled, but still perfect, and  _ you want to hear more of it _ . But he still pulls away. You’re confused. He clearly seems to be into every part of this. Why pull away now?

“I gueth I’ll go now,” he says, talking mostly to the ground. He’s still charged, some sparks still finding their way to spark, but it’s less. He mostly seems tense. He mostly seems horny. It confuses you.

“Sol...” you says. You’re just so unsure. He seems to be too, shifting from foot to foot before making a dash out of the room. He leaves his shirt there in the hurry. You really don’t understand, but you do know your genetic fluid lies in a bucket beside you, and no one else’s is mixed in with it. It makes you sick to think about. This all makes you sick to think about. Sure, you’re kismesis, but what sort of play is this? What is the point if he doesn’t even get off, even if you do? You’re lost.

And really, you’re really rather hurt. Because that was the first time you’d really had any form of sex. But you couldn’t really even reciprocate.

You admit you’re kind of moping when you get back to your bed, ashamed at literally everything that happened in that last encounter. In fact, you’re ashamed of basically everything that has ever happened between you and Sollux Captor. You’re ashamed of how much you longed for him in some... red way. Though you barely admitted that thought to yourself because of the fact thinking it could make it  _ real _ , and that was the last thing you ever wanted. You were ashamed of every groan, every breath that was ragged. You’re ashamed of how scared you were of him and how confused you are by him. You’re ashamed of what you said to him. You’re just full of shame and regret and confusion.

But it had felt just  _ so _ good. You try to remember that. You try to remember  _ Sollux _ , and how you were still together, and how he was still  _ your _ kismesis. And that made you smile. That made you smile as you fell asleep that night.


	8. Chapter 8

You wake up ready to demand Sollux talk to you and give you answers. The details of the previous day come back, and you feel sick. This isn’t want you wanted. You don’t know what to do. You just want Sollux, but whatever you had of him was twisted up. How were you even proper kismeses after all of that?

You realise that Sollux is crazy. Batshit insane. You don’t really know specifically what’s going on with him--maybe he’s just finally cracked--but it’s messing you and your relationship with him up. 

Unless...

You stifle that thought the second you have it.

You decide you better talk to Karkat about it, despite the way he’s been avoiding you. You’re angry at Sollux, but you’re also concerned, even if it’s not your place to be. You’re glad he did come to the conclusion you never tried to kill him, but that doesn’t stop your worry at all.

You venture out onto the plain of the meteor but can’t find Karkat. You walk down a tone hallway towards quarters he usually spends time in, but stop when you enter an empty room. In grotesque yellow, you find a message on the wall. “ _ ERIIDAN AMPORA II2 A MURDEROU2 BULGE2UCKER. HE TRIIED TO KIILL ME. BEWARE, _ ” is written in giant lettering. You don’t know what to do. You burst out into laughter. No parts of that were even true, and it was horribly, bitterly ironic because you  _ did  _ want to suck his bulge last night, but you didn’t, and his accusations were reflections of himself more that observations of you.

“Eridan?” you hear from the hallway. It’s a feminine voice. A kind voice. You’re laughing. Sollux is rubbing off on you because your laugh is maniacal.

“Wwhat?” you pause your laughing to turn to see Aradia. You feel like throwing up. Of course it was her; of course it was someone who Sollux actually cared about and was in some red quadrant with whom he probably didn’t paralyse or attack or accuse of murder. You look at her and see her reading Sollux’s writing on the wall. You wonder how many people have seen it. 

“That one’s elaborate. Usually he just calls you a murderer,” she says. The pit in your stomach doubles over like a black hole revolving out of whack: so there was more.

“Wwhat do you wwant?” you demand off her, finally turning to face her, but not meeting her eyes. She is so pretty and soft and beautiful. She is so kind and basically everything that you are not.

“You sounded upset,” she says. You scoff; Sollux’s crazy laughter rivalled, matched, and succeeded yours. Shouldn’t she go be with him?

“Did Sol tell you I tried to kill him?” you ask, and you see horror on her face. She seems to retreat from you, distance herself. Her friendly disposition seems dissipate away as if it never existed at all. You aren’t really her friend. “I didn’t.” 

“He seems shakier than usual,” she notes. You remember how much of a front you’d unravelled yesterday. So he was keeping this from her. You realise the right thing to do would be to tell her, not Karkat, though your jealousy of Karkat was low, and your jealousy of her ran through the void above this asteroid. 

“Wwatch out for him,” you say. “He’s unstable.”

“Sollux wouldn’t hurt anyone,” she says, and you get angry; she’s just not  _ getting  _ it. 

“Look your  _ matesprit _ ,” --you couldn’t help it-- “Needs help that his  _ kismesis _ ...” You stop and shudder because this thing has all gone sideways, and you’re looking at her, and she’s paying attention to you, actually serious.

“You’re worried about him,” she clarifies. You throw your hands down dramatically, frustrated at how this is going. Maybe your frustration is egged on by the words written on the wall and how deep they cut you. You decide now would be a  _ perfect  _ time to leave because every time you see the word bulgesucker, you remember his mouth and how hot and how intense and the texture of his hair, and everything  _ hurts. _ She didn’t correct you either, not that you’d care who Sollux’s matesprit is. Okay, maybe you care. Maybe you care enough to storm out of the room. When you get to the end of the hall, you see more writing. More yellows words calling you a murderer. You don’t even know how to react; you  _ are _ a murderer. You  _ did _ kill someone. You don’t remember much, but you remember the guilt and the horror and the scary lack of control and desperation. A blur of emotions. Sure, you didn’t try to drown Sollux. That didn’t mean you didn’t kill Feferi.

You’re so angry, so lost, so confused. You want to hurt Sollux and make him let you suck him off to fill the bucket in your sylladex that’s just sitting there with only your genetic material. You want to go and hurt Aradia, beat into her to hurt Sollux even more. You just want to  _ hurt _ . 

You hear voices down the hall, back where you left Aradia, and you don’t want to face anyone. When you look to see who it is, you see Aradia point at you for Sollux, and you especially don’t want to deal with this. You turn to abscond but find your feet frozen in place. He runs to you.

“Leavve me alone, Sol,” you say. You want to punch him and hurt him, sure. But you don’t want to because he’s your kismesis, and that’s the only way he’d take it. 

“You weren’t thaying that latht night,” he says, smiling too big, phrasing too clear and slow compared to his usual lispy mumbles that are sometimes near impossible and fast to decipher. Your face burns. This was all a  _ bad _ idea.

“Did you do that just to mock me? Wwell  _ fuck you _ ,” you say. You notice you feet are capable of mobility, and you fight a real urge to kick him in the bulge. 

“Do wh...” Understanding lights up on his face, and you could almost say he looks appalled. He doesn’t dignify you with a response, though, and decides kissing you is a much better way to go. You pull away, despite your body’s immediate response. You feel sick and angry, and you don’t want to be near someone who thinks you’re a murderer, who’s willing to suck you off just for some weird power trip, who you still  _ want _ to be near regardless.

You storm away from him too.

“ED!” You almost don’t look back and keep on walking; you almost don’t have to regret your inability to not give him what he wants.

“Wwhat?” you say, turning to see him again. He’s charged again, electric. 

“Don’t leave me,” he says. You squint at him, and he recoils back a bit, his arm jolting. He looks vulnerable which confuses you beyond no end because he’s the one who holds all the power over you because of his stupid stunt and his stupid capability of being a really fucking good kismesis, besides the whole psychotic part.

“Wwhat the evverlivvin’ fuck do you mean?” you say because you are confused. Does he just not want you to walk away? You suppose you could manage that. You suppose you could just stay where you are for a minute. He shrugs.

“Jutht don’t,” he says. It infuriates you because you  _ will _ agree. You nod and walk towards him. You don’t even know what you’re agreeing to, but he looks scared, so you’re going to agree. What sort of kismesis are you? A fucked up, terrible one--that’s what. But that doesn’t stop him from looking like he needs you, and it doesn’t stop you from wanting to help him and stay by him. “KK and one of hith human friendth have been wathing a lot of movieth lately. Would you like to?” he asks. You nod  before you realise it’s, in fact, the first time anyone’s really offered to do anything with you on this meteor trip.

“Wwill your matesprit be there?” you can’t help but ask. Sollux looks at you confused.

“No...” he says. “Why are you tho obthethed with them?” Now,  _ you’re  _ recoiling. “Quadranth don’t really matter. Ethpethally now.”

“I just don’t like her,” you lie, trying to come up with an excuse. He laughs again maniacally. It scares you.

“Who? AA? She’th not my matethprit,” he says. “What? Are you jealouth of her?”

“Of course not!” you act appalled, ignoring the relief twisting inside of you, bubbling up unlike the jealousy that had been truly eating you up. “Wwhy the fuck wwould I care about your red quadrants? Flatter yourself much, Sol?” 

“I flatter mythelf on how fatht you came yethterday,” he says cockily. You bite your lip before rolling your eyes at him. He’s snickering. He reaches his hand out and takes yours; you coil your hand into his. His palms are sweaty, but you’ve never held his hand before, and you look at him, but he won’t meet your eyes. “Let’th go bug them to thart a movie now.”

“Wwill Kar be okay wwith me bein’ there?” you ask tentatively. Normally, you’d probably argue with him about who Karkat likes better and actually feel confident. He used to be one of your best friends. You have a lot of memories of him being your  _ only _ friend, but they get vague as they travel into the time of the game. “He seemsta really hate me.”

“Eheh,” Sollux meets your eyes now. You see kindness in addition to his edge of insanity. “He jutht thpent enough time with FF to remember what a douthe you were,” he says. Burnt, you drop your gaze. “Hey, he doethn’t hate you,” Sollux says, and you drag your eyes back up to his. He’s confusing you with the level of concern in his voice. Why is he suddenly acting as if he actually cares about you? Will Sollux ever stop confusing you to no end?

“Wwell, wwhat are wwe wwaitin’ for?” you ask, and Sollux  _ smiles _ . It’s aimed at you, and you’re confused, but it makes  _ you _ smile, and suddenly everything feels red, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sollux pulls his hand away from yours to presumably text Karkat.

“He thayth thure,” Sollux informs you, and you both head towards the movie room. You pass one of Sollux’s  _ messages _ left on the wall on the way. “ _ ERIIDAN2 A MURDERER. _ ” You dare a glance at his face when you pass it, and he darts his eyes away from the message, not commenting on the fact he left it.

You guess you deserve worse. But all you can think about is that vague memory of hostility and desperation and guilt. All you can see is rage and pain. All you know is you  _ did  _ murder her.

The events of the game messed you up so badly in ways you’ve been trying to ignore in your isolation, but every time you see one of Sollux’s messages or have an urge to talk to one of your old friends--Karkat, Kanaya, Feferi-- you remember, and it tears you apart. At least Kanaya got her revenge on you, but you haven’t even  _ tried _ to talk to her since the reset.

The movie room is the same one you were yesterday, and it’s too intense. The blue boy--John--is setting up the movie on some sort of projected against the a wall that Sollux had pushed you up against. And there was the ground--it looked a lot harder now, you wondered why you never noticed that--where Sollux hand held you down against, where he’d sucked you off, where he’d...

His hand is in yours, and you wonder if he realises that he took things too far, and that’s why he’s being nice to you. Or it’s some sort of set-up, and you should be paranoid, watching his every move. You notice how calm he’s seeming now, and you hope he’s actually feeling that calm and not just carrying it out in front of Karkat. Karkat doesn’t seem like a person he’d feel like he’d have to hide himself from, but then again, neither does Aradia.

“I can’t possibly conceive why the fuck you’d date  _ Eridan Ampora _ . Are you out of your melted, rotting think pan? Are you really that sadistic?” Karkat yells out after pouting in the corner while John had set things up. John looks like he’s about to interject, but Sollux beats him to it. You can practically feel the energy around Sollux crackle.

“He’th a better kithmethith than you’d be,” --you feel your chest swell, even though that’s not much of a compliment-- “Theemth like a utheleth point thinthe it’th none of your buthneth anywayth.”

“I don’t want to be within a world’s distance of that inkling of a justification for a living being who’s somehow managed to waste everybody’s resources by breathing in this air,” Karkat gives out. “Or listen to you scared, whining about how he tried to kill you when you already know you’re kismesises with a known murderer who cold heartedly tried to eradicate someone who he claimed to...” Karkat’s cut short by being blasted back by Sollux’s psionics. You grip Sollux’s hand tighter absentmindedly. You knew this was a bad idea; this is why you’d been avoiding him, why you’d been avoiding everyone. Because it’s coming back more now, and you can’t deal with Karkat’s justified anger or your own guilt. You dare a glance a John. You wonder why you care what he thinks at a time like this when you know everything he’s heard about you has been coming from sources outraged at what you’ve done.

“I’ll leavve,” you says, trying to cut through the silence. Karkat’s pouting now. “I’m sorry.” You try to pack as much genuity in the words as you can. Everything feels laced with regret. 

“Do you think some half-assed flimsy excuse of an apology fixes how...” he’s cut short again by Sollux.

“KK, jutht thut up. You’re embarrathing yourthelf.” You can’t bear the thought of letting go of Sollux’s hand right now, so you don’t know how to leave.

“I’m just trying to keep everyone alive on the meteor so we don’t all kill each other before we actually even get there!”

“I don’t think Eridan’s going to kill anyone,” John finally says. You look at him with grateful eyes. Karkat glares at him.

“Remember how he tried to  _ drown _ Sollux just a few days ago?” Karkat brings up. Oh. So Sollux did tell Karkat about that. 

“Mithunderthtanding,” Sollux says, shifting. Karkat looks about to boil.

“Kar, I just wwanna wwatch a movvie with you, swwear. You wwere my best friend.” Karkat’s pouting more now. You can sorta see he’s not really  _ angry _ anymore, more just throwing that off since you’re finally there for him to yell at. You don’t know what’s actually going on in his head.

“Ooh, Karkat, you totally love this movie. Why don’t we watch it?” John asks. Karkat just shrugs and continues to seethe and stare at you.

“Do you even fully remember?” he asks. 

“No,” you admit. “Mostly just feelin’s.”

“You blinded one of my best friends then  _ shot _ his  _ matesprit _ ,” Karkat glances at Sollux as if goading him into joining his fury against you. “Through the chest before you destroyed the matriorb and similarly shot another one of our closest friends.”

“Wwhat do you wwant, Kar?” you decide to ask. “I offered to leavve. I said I’m sorry. Wwhat to you wwant?”

“ _ You never even fucking messaged me in the last several perigrees _ ,” he bellows out at you. Sollux glances at you, if anything a little shocked. 

“I tried, but you wwouldn’t answer,” you say. “You kept blockin’ me.”

“You barely tried, and then I messaged you, and you didn’t even respond.” You don’t tell him you do remember that, but you thought it was some fucking joke Sollux was playing on you. You don’t say you wished you had or anything. You’re too messed up. This all hurts too much. All you can think of it his anger and how much you apparently  _ kept _ messing things up even  _ after _ you killed two of the people closest to you. You’re a mess. You pull away from Sollux, and leave the room, Karkat yelling expletives behind you. 

This was all a mess. This was all a mistake. Everything Sollux ever said to you is true, and Karkat probably hates you more than your kismesis does. You don’t care. You just want to die.


	9. Chapter 9

Everything is racing, and all you can feel is the regret, the anger, the  _ confusion _ . Should you try to convince Sollux that you guys don’t work, that you blinded him, and you’d both been in a duel to the death? You know you can’t: you’re too weak for that, but you wish there was  _ something _ you could do. You don’t even remember it. All you remember was fear. You know you did something to upset everyone after being alone and scared and  _ hopeless _ . And then it was anger, then it was reactions and regret and...

You message her. You’re hiding in an empty room, hoping that someone will come and find you, let you know you’re worth something. Anyone. You know they’re probably immersed in the film, thankful for an excuse to not have you there. It’s not like Sollux has ever hung out with you in front of his friends before. 

You’re shaking; you know you  _ shouldn’t _ do this. You’ve been fighting this urge for perigrees now. You’ve barely messaged her except to reiterate an apology. She told you she understood and never replied to you again.

But you need to now. Not because you  _ need  _ her. Not to comfort you. But you need her because she’s the only one who really knows what happened, and you need to know in full detail. You deserve to stop hiding and face what you did, but your hands are shaking, and  _ oh you don’t want to. _

You know she hates you. That’s another thing you can feel from the past: hatred. You feel her hatred before you feel your regret.

caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling cuttlefishCuller [CC] 

CA: i knoww you nevver wwanna hear from me again  
CA: i just  
CA: i NEEDA knoww wwhat i did  
CA: not because i evver expect forgivveness just  
CA: could you please tell me howw it wwent dowwn  
CC: I guess. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t expecting to )(ear from you 38\  
CA: shit shit SHIT  
CA: evverythins so wwrong wwhy am i LIKE this  
CC: Ugh...  
CC: CLAM DOWN. I’ll fill you in. Don’t do somefin stupid  
CC: You wanted to side wit)( Jack, so we )(ad to stop you.  
CC: So Sollux dueled you. I t)(oug)(t you KILL-ED )(im. You were really out of control 38(  
CC: So I tried to... subdue you. And t)(at’s mostly w)(at I remember since you murdered M-E t)(en. But I know you destroyed t)(e matriorb and killed Kanaya w)(o later killed you.  
CC: Basically, you tried to betray us, t)(en murdered me and Kanaya. But we’re all alive now! 38)  
CC: T)(at put you at ease? Not going to go do somefin as dramatic and stupid as you were sounding?  
CA: thanks fef  
CA: yeah shore wwhatevver.

cuttlefishCuller [CC]  ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA]

You’re shaking, but at least you’re numb. It didn’t work. You barely still remember it. Or maybe now that you’ve heard her tell you it, you  _ don’t care _ . Which scares you more, and you’re shaking, and no one followed you even though you  _ knew _ they wouldn’t, so you don’t know why you’re surprised.

Something hurts a little too much with how she still thinks you’re going to hurt someone. You know that she has every right, that you deserve way worse from her than to lose her in your life and have her suspicion, but it  _ cuts _ . 

You have a fleeting thought to cut up your skin with your claws. Your skin’s tough, but you could manage it. You wish you at least still wore your scarf. Even if it did make people think you were even more ridiculous and awful, at least you could bite on it and feel... protected.

“Eridan?” you hear. I choke out a “here”, and you see Karkat enter the room. Great. Why is everything falling apart  _ all the time _ . Why do you have to be so terrible that your life it? Why can’t you just  _ stop _ ?

“Kar, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You don’t know what to say. “I’m...”

“Stop!” he yells, his voice loud, and you flinch. You’re shaking, and you see him look at you like you’re something  _ pathetic. _ And you guess you are, curling in on yourself shaking on the ground. He doesn’t lean down, so he stays ominous with his height.

You really wish to keep saying apologies till you  _ can’t  _ anymore. You’re remembering things. You’re remembering pacts and things Karkat said to you, and it  _ hurts _ . Some things  _ are _ coming back, and you’re glad, but it’s  _ torture. _

“Eridan, listen,” he says, but it’s hard cause he’s towering over you, and his words aren’t coming in right. But you pay attention as best as you can. “You’re my friend. Just... watch the movie with us? Sollux has already made me feel like the doltish wretched shitmouth that I am,” he says. You start to sob. You don’t know how to take in any of what he said. Did he... call you his  _ friend _ ? You seem to upset him more, with your confused, delirious reaction, and he begins to yell. “Just watch the fucking movie with us if you’re really sorry at all!” You try to spring to your feet because you  _ have  _ to show him you’re sorry. But it’s all too much too much, and you’re shaking, and you think you’re going to pass out, falling to the ground. You faintly hear Karkat calling for Sollux, and you feel hands pressed on your face. Sollux is at your level, his glasses there, his hands on your face. Like a moirail. It’s too much. You wonder mildly if you’re hallucinating now yourself.

“Sol...” you make out. “At least you’re okay...” You feel him pull you close to him. You don’t get the sudden comfort he’s doling out to you. You don’t get the kindness you’re receiving all around; hell,  _ Feferi answered you. _

“Calm down athwipe,” he says. You smile and breathe for him. 

“I’m  _ calm _ ,” you say, and you’re sure you’re slurring it. “At least calm compared ta  _ you _ . Evvver.” You laugh because his psionics are sparking.

“Yeah, I gueth that’th true,” he says, and you’re surprised by his response. He doesn’t stop looking at you like you’re something important, and it’s too much;  you look behind him to see Karkat still standing, still looking scared and  _ worried. _ For  _ you.  _ But you remember what Karkat said all of a sudden, that if you’re truly sorry you’ll go watch the movie with them, and you rush to stand up again, and Sollux steadies you with his psionics, saying “ _ woah”. _

“I gueth I didn’t ethpect thith to be an ithue,” he offers, shrugging. 

“Wwhat?” 

“It doethn’t matter. Would you like to thtill hang out with uth?” he asks. “KK’th jutht being hith uthual charming thelf.” 

“Yeah,” you say, succeeding in sounding far more nonchalant than you are. “Yeah, sure.”

“Now that we’ve surpassed this theatrical event only suitable for the worst kind of entertainment in any universe, we all good?” Karkat says. He’s a little less intimidating now that you’re standing up, eye to eye with the way you’re still slumping. You nod to Karkat, unsure of what he really means and fighting an immediate urge to ask for clarification, to make you not hold on too painfully to this shining bit of hope you haven’t seen since before the game. Hope for someone caring about you. Hope that Karkat is on his way to forgiving you. But you keep your mouth shut. You walk, hand in hand with Sollux (since when has he shown you this kind of affection? Not that you’re complaining) and watch the movie.

John and Karkat laugh together in the same way you end up laughing with Sollux, but John doesn’t mock Karkat when he starts tearing up the way Sollux does to you. Despite the ridicule, you love that he was caught up in you enough, thought about you enough, thought  _ enough _ about you, to comment to you when it really was Karkat who was getting all emotional. You were just shedding some tears. You were overwhelmed by all the affection and kindness and the show kept displaying love, and it was  _ a lot _ okay?

You’re happier than you can ever remember being as you part from John and Karkat. Loneliness doesn’t feel like it’s suffocating you, drowning out any emotion of happiness from no ability to share it. You feel like maybe you can rebuild friendships. Sollux is holding your hand still, and you are beaming.

\---

Once you’re away in a secluded room, just you and him, he drops your hand. You look at him quizzically, having let him lead you here (where else would you have to be?), and he starts using his psionics to pick up books on this one shelf, the rocks that were loose by the walls,  _ anything _ not tied down and throw them around the room. It’s terrifying to watch. He looks so absent, just concentrating on this task at hand and nothing else. The rush of air and power around you, the red and blue lights in the dimness of the room. You were apprehensive of what to expect, as you’d learnt to always be around Sollux.

“Sol?” you ask after what you consider a scarily large period of time. He turns his head to look at you, and you realise he really did forget you were in the room. He doesn’t even appear to see you, but once he does, everything stops, literally. Objects drop in the air. Sparks are still flickering around his frame, and he’s started to do that infamous shaking you attributed to his constant instability. 

He closes the distance between the two of you and starts kissing you. You want to have a conversation with him right now. In fact, it feels urgent. You want to ask him if he knew fully what you’d done in the game. You wanted to ask him if he really made you so vulnerable, pailing you for the first time (and though he might not know, of  _ anyone _ ) just to mock you later. You wanted to ask him if you were still okay after what you said while his mouth was around your bulge (and wow you can’t think of that while kissing him, you feel blood rush down and up). At least you know he still is interested in being your kismesis, if the way he’s kissing you means anything. And, if you’re very honest with yourself, most of those thoughts are melting with his violent bites. He pins your arms above your head and nibbles on your neck. You’re groaning, trying to reciprocate but getting too lost in what he is doing to you.

You feel his arms shaking against yours, the weight of them trying to hold yours against the wall (seriously, does he have some sort of wall kink?). You push down against him, your strength surpassing his, and embrace him. He’s not shaking like usual. He’s trembling like you do. He’s afraid.

“Sol, wwhat’s goin’ on?” you ask. You arms might be around him, restricting him somewhat, but that doesn’t stop him from biting at your face fin. You give out, dropping your arms. “Sol!” You’re quite indignant now.

“You’re a thitty kithm...whatever. Jutht fucking kith me,” he says, but he’s still shaking, and you can’t  _ stop _ your concern. Maybe you are fucking your quadrant up. But you think caring about a sudden change in your  _ insane _ kismesis’ behavior isn’t quite as bad as telling them you love them. You repeat your statement: the one from a few seconds ago, not the dire one that should never have escaped your lips.

“Wwhat’s goin’ on?” He pushes you back, and you hit your head on the wall, but he’s looking at you now, panting and shaking, and  _ holy shit is he tearing up _ ?

“Dithplaying care like a true gentletroll,” he snarks at you. You smirk back.

“Excuse me for bein’ polite,” you respond. You notice how he still seems on edge, and maybe you’re misreading something since  _ you’re _ on edge after everything that happened today, but something about the way he’s twitching and shaking is abnormal for him. So yeah. You are displaying care like a true gentletroll.

“Yeah, but that’th the ithue,” he says. And yes, something’s definitely wrong. His eyes just turned to bottom left of his vision, and he’s hugging his arms now that his hands aren’t on you.

“Wwhy wwould that be a bloody  _ issue _ ?” You would give anything for people to notice something off in you and care about it.

“Becauthe, ED,” he says, and he directs his eyes up to you, and you see a glimpse of them past the glasses. “You don’t actually give a fuck.”

“And who gets to decide that!”

“The methed up part of your brain that made it incapable for you to love anyone.”

“You’vve said a lotta shit, but this is the most vvile stinkin’ pile of it evver!” He moves to kiss you again, but he just wants to shut you up, he’s not responding to something so immediate, so. Fuck. Why can’t he talk to you? Why can’t he tell you what’s going on in his messed up pan instead of making you guess and guess and guess?

“ED, you don’t actually give a thit about me. Trutht me,” he says, and then he smirks before adding, “You’re jutht glad I’m tho much of a catch, I can make you burtht out your dithguthting royal thludge in no time at all.” You feel your disgusting royal blood flow to your face. Everything feels so hot.

“Stop dictatin’ wwhat I’m feelin’! You’re full of fuckin’ balderdash. Wwhy are you so against just lettin’ me knoww wwhat’s up? Are you  _ scared _ ?” You’re shaking more violently than he is now, but you cover that fact up by glaring intensely at him, hoping your words bore into him and  _ affect  _ him. But he’s glaring back, not with as much intensity as usual, but enough to bore right into you. When he speaks again, you expect it to be cutting back. In fact, you sorta expect him to break up with your ass right there, and you’re so scared. But he falters.

“Falling,” he says. He glances down. You wait for elaboration, but he doesn’t give any. Is he accusing you of falling for him? 

“You’re gonna havvta givve me a little more than that,” you say. He stares at you reluctantly, but he does answer.

“Uh, thlowing down. I gueth. It doethn’t matter. I don’t even thee what you’re making thuch a big deal out of. Do you really need even  _ more _ drama in your life, ED?”

“You’re scared a slowwing down?” you clarify. 

“Thankth for delineating that. I definitely didn’t hear anyone else in the room thay that two thecondth ago,” he responds. He is scared. You don’t really know what to say to that. You kiss him again, softly, and grab his trembling arm. You trace little lines that represent your sign on his arm, but he doesn’t notice that. He’s kissing you back, of course with more force. You want to take a break, when he starts shaking less, when he’s moaning into your mouth and biting your bottom lip, but you don’t get up the willpower to stop kissing him.

It’s him who moves it along further. It’s him who pulls up your shirt first, before you pull up his. He palms at your bulge through your jeans, and you gasp out, despite not wanting to do this again, not wanting to be so weak, something he’d want to  _ mock _ , again. But it just feels so fucking good.

You feather your hands down to his bulge top, pressing through his jeans. He moans similarly to how you did, and grasps tightly onto your shoulders. You steal a kiss before going back. He practically keens as you grasp at his bulge through the fabric. You then go the top of his jeans to unbutton them. He freaks out at this, pushing little bursts of psionic force at your fingers (but not enough to deter you physically). You look at him in confusion but drop your hands. 

“Wwhat?” you ask bitterly. “If you really have so many powwer games goin’ in your pan that you refuse to lemme get you off, then this isn’t gonna be a vvery fun kismesissitude,” you say. He takes a step back from you and looks at you with an expression you couldn’t hope to read.

“Yeah, thith ith a mithtake,” he says. “Let’th not be,” he stops for a second. “Kithmetheth anymore.”

You freeze.

You didn’t hear that right, did you? You couldn’t have.

“Wwhat?”

“Eheh, you’re fathe,” he laughs. Why the fuck is he laughing when there are tears prickling behind your eyes? Does he really think  _ that _ little of you? Of your entire relationship?

“You’re breakin’ up wwith me?”

“Yeah. I gueth. I’m going to... go,” he says. 

“Sol!” you call as he pulls away from you to leave. He turns back to you, and you swear he’s trying to apologise. But then he just keeps walking away, leaving you there to deal with this mess he made.

This mess he made while he wasn’t scared of falling down. Or, as you think of it, coming back to reality. This mess that has nothing really to do with you. It just happened to  _ be _ you. It hits you that you probably weren’t ever significant to Sollux in any real way. You were just something there to curb his boredom while his energy and sanity left him.

At least you finally figured out why the hell he ever went black with you in the first place.

You laugh bitterly, sliding down to stare at your sorry hands, in awe that they’d just been all over Sollux Captor’s body. Everything had been turning so good. Mutual friends, old friends, holding his fucking hand. You feel something inside of you snap, and it’s unpleasant; you feel sick. Bitterly, it occurs to you that you deserve this. 

Like you were ever meant to hope.


	10. Chapter 10

caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA] 

CA: sol do you not have any decorum  
CA: wwhat the fuck is this 

Three hours later. You expected him to at least explain it to you.

CA: “hey letth play with pathetic edth feelinth and never thpeak to him again”

CA: sol its been twwo days

You’ve been trying not to message him. You’ve been trying. That approach is failing. Time is passing. Didn’t he know that he was the only person in your life and basically your only real form of entertainment on this bloody rock?

Your entire collapsing and expanding bladder based aquatic vascular system feels like he infected it with a virus.

CA: JUST EXPLAIN IT TO ME  
CA: IN EVVEN THE MOST ELEMENTARY POSSIBLE TERMS  
CA: “you annoy me ed no one careth about you”  
CA: “youre a fuckin terrible kithmethith”  
CA: sol just givve me somethin

You’re getting desperate. You’re getting more and more vulnerable and more and more hurt. The confusion is combatting the rejection of him not wanting you, but you can truly clearly see why he doesn’t. This is your denial.

You don’t do much else. You sit there, rereading the things you’ve said, feeling sick to your stomach, wanting to nonstop message him. It’s been three days; he hasn’t messaged you once. You don’t understand why he can’t just at least  _ explain _ . You’re not asking him to get back together. You’re not asking him to remain in your life or be your  _ friend _ or anything but to explain why he did break up with you. Is that too much to ask?

And there’s a part of you, an inching part that’s  _ scared _ . Because he hasn’t blocked you either. Why the fuck wouldn’t he just block you?

CA: im gonna stop noww  
CA: its your right if you dont wwanna tell me  
CA: but could you at least say hello  
CA: or evven block me  
CA:  so i can knoww youre safe  
CA: i promise i wwont message you again PLEASE

You aren’t actually expecting him to respond, but he does after two minutes. You smirk because it was exactly two minutes; you’re pretty sure he saw it immediately, but he had to wait just the perfect about of time. The smirk may cover up some stinging rejection.

TA: ..

You’re still having trouble understanding, even after feeling so much tension leave with your relief. Why didn’t he just block you? Does he get enjoyment out of watching you suffer, desperate for any interaction with him? Well screw him. You want to respond back immediately, but you don’t. You said you wouldn’t.

Luckily, he does. After another half hour.

TA: wow you were 2eriiou2 thought iid never 2ee the day

You were. You were serious, and he can stop mocking you now because _apparently he’s not your kismesis_.

TA: iignore me all you want. you cant ju2t omiit the myriiad of me22age2 you 2ent me.

So now _you’re_ ignoring _him_?

CA: you fuckin HYPOCRITE  
TA: eheheh there2 good old ed iin full actiion  
CA: wwhat havve you been doin  
CA: you degenerate lout  
CA: this is useless wwhy am i evven still talkin to you  
TA: becau2e you love me apparently  
TA: eheheheh

Hot tears are brimming your eyes. Your brain is pixels of lesions and weaknesses and humiliation. Fuck him. You don’t know why you ever let him under your skin like this in the first place.

CA: wwell actually i wwas tryna figure out wwhy   
CA: but since you obvviously arent gonna tell me imma just stop  
CA: happy  
TA: what.  
CA: is it because a wwhat i said that   
CA: is that wwhy you brought it up  
TA: that2 not vague at all  
CA: ill take that as a yes  
TA: are you kiiddiing me.  
CA: wwhatevver  
CA: bye  
TA: bye?  
CA: wwhy dont you go suck someone elses bulge and laugh at howw they react  
TA: holy fuck ed  
TA: dont go. ii  
TA: “broke up” wiith you becau2e youre a bad kii2me2ii2 liike you 2aiid 2o iit wa2nt workiing. none of that bull2hiit  
CA: so it wwas just coincidentally coincidin wwith you slowwin dowwn or wwhatevver  
TA: eriidan.

You wouldn’t have reckoned you would end up being this forward, but it’s the first time he’s faltered in responding, and maybe you are eating that up while you can, before he stops, before you might never get to talk to him like this again.

TA: can you ju2t not thiink about that liike iit ii2nt a thiing you should ever thiink about

How are you supposed to not when it has so much connection to why he ever seemed like he wanted you at all?

CA: ok

Why can’t he just block you, so you know when the conversation is done? He doesn’t, and you sit there like dimwit awaiting his response despite your answer just being “ok”.

TA: aa told me you were worriied about me

What the fuck?

CA: wworried you wwere gonna lose it maybe  
CA: it doesnt matter anywways  
CA: wwhy wwould she tell you that  
TA: becau2e 2he2 one of my best friiend2  
CA: but not your matesprit

You type it out too quickly. He already confirmed this _goddamn_.

TA: ii2 thii2 about ff

Your chest burns.

CA: wwhat  
TA: iit2 ju2t 2o normal for 2omeone2 black quadrant2 two giive two fuck2 about 2aiid per2on2 red  
TA: ii mean the whole concept ii2 a liittle ludiicrou2  
TA: but you buy iintwo iit more than liike anyone de2piite the fact there2 no drone2  
TA: 2o iim bettiing thi2 i2 about ff  
CA: finally typin fast again are wwe  
CA: an no fef and i dont speak or anythin if youre wwith her i guess its none of my business  
CA: not that it evver wwas  
TA: eheheh not buyiing iit try agaiin next tiime when youre not ob2e22iing over my mate2priit  
CA: wwhy are you evven talkin to me  
TA: do you want me two 2top??

You don’t even understand how he can type that fast. You guess being a maniac and then coding while being said maniac might influence it.

CA: no.   
CA: but you kinda didnt talk to me for days  
TA: 2o  
CA: wwhy are you noww  
TA: ii gue22 a break from you make2 me forget how iincorriigiible you really are  
CA: wwell sol wwas it not but a moment ago that you told me notta go  
TA: capiitiiliziing on any opportuniity two make iit 2eem liike ii want two talk two you to cover up the fact you de2perately want me ii 2ee  
CA: wwhat  
TA: 2ee, thii2 ii2 why we diidnt make good kii2me2e2  
TA: 2harpe2t tool iin the grub2hed are you not   
CA: does a false sense of superiority from your sure-wworded fucked up mind help you get ovver howw much better i am than you  
TA: iit doe2 when iit ii2nt fal2e  
CA: since bein good at computers is a true sign a intelligence  
CA: wwhile my alchemy skills dont get the true marvvellin they deserve  
TA: have fun puttiing tho2e 2kiill2 two u2e

caligulasAquarium’s [CA’s]computer exploded.  
  
You yelp, panic flooding your mind, quickly followed by anger. You weren’t expecting it, and you burn your fingers. It’s not like you don’t already have a portable communication setup or anything. But you’re angry because that was a good computer, and what right does he have to blowing your valuable items up when he’s not even your kismesis?

caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling  twinArmageddons [TA] 

CA: wwoww  
CA: are you serious  
CA: blowwin up my stuff sol   
TA: ii 2hould blow that one up two  
TA: 2iince you bliinded me once apparently

You wince. What is he doing? Is this some sort of sick revenge, to play around with your emotions and completely _fuck you up_?

CA: i dare you two  
CA: TOO goddamit i am not an illiterate ignoramus like you  
TA: ed ju2t 2hut up  
TA: iim here anyway2 2o your o2tentatiiou2 excu2e for a hu2ktop doe2nt matter

twinArmageddons [TA] ceased trolling  caligulasAquarium [CA]

You hear a knock on the door and realise how horribly unprepared you are for this. You answer hesitantly, and when you see Sollux, he looks disarrayed, chaotic in a dishevelled, messy way instead of crazed.

“You knoww howw much data you just obliterated!” you give out, not faking it at all. You didn’t have the backups you probably should have. No one’d blown up you computer in a good while.

“Being the inconthiterate athole I am, I cloned it for you. Calm down,” he says.

“Fuck you and your sarcasm! Some of that stuff was important!” He facepalms.

“Did I really jutht come all the way out to your thad, thecluded hideout for thith.”

“I don’t knoww. Usually you come to get your dirty, lowwblooded rocks on, but that’s ovver.”

“Could you try to be a little more bitter? Your tone didn’t portray anything even thlightly acrimoniouth.”

“You wwish,” you respond, and as you do he comes in close to you, and you draw back immediately.

“Wwoww, Sol, wwhat’s goin’ on? I thought you said wwe wwere ovver.” You hope the vulnerability isn’t too raw in your voice. You’re beginning to feel like all you are is a product of his mood swings, and the sad part is, you’re just pathetic enough to go along with it.

The pith is, you’re enamoured by him. You’re starting to realise that the quadrant doesn’t matter as much as the fact he’s there, caring about you in some way, and if that isn’t the most messed up thing you’ve ever heard of, then you’re not sure what is.

You can’t put your finger on what it is about him. Maybe it’s his constant drama and struggle and volatility you can feel strikingly relatable to your own. It seems more like his energy, though, like something about him is just calling, capturing you in. All the details added up together consume you. It’s too much for your brain, and it’s too much to handle when he’s your rival.

That’s what makes you hate him, at least now. The fact that you _can’t_ rival him. You hate him for being better than you. So you guess you do like him black. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you can or can’t navigate your way through your own feelings because you can’t navigate this through his in his messed up head. He’s doing that on his own, and the conclusion is that he doesn’t want you at all--unless it’s a product of a mood swing. And you don’t want to be a part of that.

You glance at him since he just doesn’t seem to be responding. You wish he wasn’t wearing those glasses because you can’t read his expression whatsoever

“FF is my matethprit,” he says. You stop, unsure of how to take that in. It’s not like they hadn’t been before. It’s not like there was every possibility of this. And you hadn’t lied. In fact, you don’t really even _care_ about her that much anymore. You missed your friend. You still loved her. You would have this unrequited, calamitous pity for her for the rest of you long, long life, but the distance from her and her coldness towards you had given you the space to move on.

At least, that’s what you thought until envy curled into poisonous cirruses in your gut.

“So?” you ask sharply. And then it hits you what he’s trying to do. He’s telling you to anger you into not caring about the fact he’s doing this because of his current want for you and not because he wants to be quadranted with you. Which is probably gonna dissipate and leave you hollower than before. “I mean, obvviously she’s too good for you, but wwhatevver.”

“Thee talkth thit about you, y’know,” he adds. The toxins are infiltrating your veins. Your eyes feel like they need to water from it. Because you can picture it, her and him. Talking shit about you. You can imagine Sollux saying all the things that make you hate yourself more and more to her. You can imagine her saying all the things she hates about you, that made her grow tired of dealing with you, of never truly wanting to in the first place. You can imagine it, and you realise you don’t like the idea of Sollux talking shit about you to her or hearing bad things about you from someone you used to trust.

“Good for her. She’s gotta lotta say, I bet,” you respond, your claws biting into the palm of your hand: tight fists.

“Yeah, I’d totally forgotten about your whole genothide thpiel. Real charming guy, aren’t you?”

“Fuck you, Sol. You deservve to die.” He snickers, and you realise your mistake. “Indivvidually.” He laughs more, probably realising you’d made a mistake. “I’ll fucking kill you!” You feel something light twisting upwards in your head. It’s paradoxically both light and white and heavy and dark, but mostly it’s just consuming.

“I’d like to thee you try,” Sollux responds, and everything is hot.

“Kill _me_ then!” you belt out, and you swear you can make sense of his expression enough to see _something_.

“Don’t be tho dramatic,” he says, but it’s quieter now, more careful and reserved. Something in you was twisting violently at the thought of him caring about whether or not you lived or died (which is pathetic), but the way he cut it off, calling you dramatic, reminds you a bit too much of something you can’t deal with thinking about right now (which is also pathetic).

“Then get out. I’m not your kismesis, so stop treatin’ me like it!” Maybe you were bitter, but fuck him, that’s his fault. This is all on him. He’s the one been playing you; he’s the one who starts and ends all of this.

“Do you really care that much that FF and I are a thing?” he asks. You look at him like he’s the idiot he is. How does he not get this? How does he not get that your brain can’t take in him picking out your vulnerabilities, him thinking that badly of you? He’s such and idiot, and you _hate_ him for it, and you want to be his kismesis again. You want to kiss him right now, but you’re not going to. You’re going to make him leave, so you can’t stop feeling like a playtoy he can choose to control whenever he feels like it. You’re alive. You have feelings. And even if you don’t deserve anything but how he’s treating you, you’re not okay with it.

“Fuck you,” you say tiredly. He’s still looking at you, and you don’t understand what he means. You think his eyes are drawn together, but you can’t really see.

“FF and I... we’re not really...” he says, and you let out a huge breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. You feel a lot less dizzy and gone as you breathe a bit more normally. He turns to leave, and he even actually awkwardly waves goodbye. You don’t return it.

He shuts the door, and you’re so confused. You have no idea what’s going on.

How the hell are you supposed to navigate through all the things just said, so less how you feel about them or what any of this really means?


	11. Chapter 11

Sollux doesn’t stop messaging you, and you don’t know how to respond to it. You’re so grateful, but most of the time it’s just insults. A lot of the time he sends jabs about how you respond, about how this is why you guys didn’t work out in a kismesistude. He doesn’t try to meet up with you again though. No one does. 

You wonder if you should message Karkat, but he’s not messaging you, so you assume you shouldn’t.

As some days pass, you realise that you spend nearly every moment of your life in your block, locked away from the world, and literally  _ no one _ cares. Sollux might make digs about it, but no one cares that your mind is getting messed up staring at rock ceilings, thinking of all the ways you could’ve responded better to every message Sollux does send you. 

It’s too fucking warm in your room. It’s always too warm. The asteroid is generally too warm, but for some reason heat gets trapped in your room, and you loathe it. You’re sweating on your bed, with you head on a soft pillow looking at a mark on the wall created by a rock you threw when you decide to just give up. You stop messaging Sollux, still staring at his words, unable to close the client, but with no desire to respond to him telling you that the fact you know how pretentious you actually are is the reason you’re not responding back to him. You don’t know what to say to him, you never fucking have. You’ve tried and tried and said everything you thought a kismesis would say, but it never worked, it just never works, so you’re lost and you just decide to  _ stop _ .

You just want it all to  _ stop _ .

Who are you all even kidding? This is all  _ useless _ . This is a doomed timeline, and everyone on the asteroid knows it, but they’re just going on as if they aren’t aware. They’re  _ all _ going to die. There’s no hope. There never was. Maybe you got reset, maybe you were all on the asteroid. But that’s proof of it. You very existence, your very being alive, isn’t that just proof that this timeline is fucked?

You wish you were in the alpha timeline right now.

You stop staring at the messages or the wall or the ceiling and cover your head in your soft pillow, it feeling smooth against your face, and sleep for the millionth time in the middle of the afternoon.

\---

TA: are you 2eriiou2 ed   
TA: ii2 thii2 2ome 2ort of 2iick payback for me iignoriing your me22ages   
TA: what unmiitiigated b2   
TA: ed ii get iit   
TA: iif you me22age me iill explaiin why   
TA: look at thii2 thii2 ii2 the driivel you u2ually eat up   
TA: iim liiterally bargaiiniing wiith you ju2t two talk two me   
TA: look at me down on my fuckiing knee2 all 2triipped vulnerable a2kiing you to reply   
TA: whatever   
TA: 2ome day youre gonna learn all your ii22ue2 are on you

twinArmageddons [TA]  ceased trolling  caligulasAquarium [CA]

You throw your device against the rock wall and are disappointed when it doesn’t crack. You feel yourself wasting away, but at least you know enough from your past to know you should just do that. Waste away. It’s not like anyone would care anyways. You don’t even know why Sollux is talking to you, but he stopped. You hear some more buzzing on your trollian. Maybe he didn’t. That nearly energises you enough to go check it, but you don’t because staring at nothing is such a better way to spend your time. 

You’re deep in thought, actually under covers, trying to sleep when someone comes into your room. You know it’s during the time of your circadian rhythm that you should be asleep during (who knows when in relativity to the sky when you’re nocturnal stuck on a sunless ship with diurnal aliens). 

Sollux shuts the door quietly and apparently goes to lie on your floor. He doesn’t say anything until you shift around to look at him.

“You’re room ith warm,” he says. You want to make a comment countering that because you’re  _ boiling _ . “I’m uthed to the cold. Thith ith nithe”

“Bloody lowwbloods,” you say. He smiles at that. Why does he love getting a reaction from you like that? Why does he like making you angry and upset? And if it’s because of him liking you pitch,  _ why are you not kismeses _ ?

“Tho... um...” he says quietly. “Are you trying to thleep?”

“It’s fuckin’ late. Thanks from comin’ and fillin’ me in wwith palavver.”

“I’ll take that ath a no,” he says. You want to react annoyed, but instead you just feel your face sink further into your pillow. He’s too much, too close, and you don’t understand, and you don’t even care enough to try to put the pieces together. “Why won’t you rethpond to me?” he asks so tentatively. You don’t know if you’ve ever heard him that raw or exposed. 

“Does it matter,” you respond, half into your pillow. It’s weird, how much you crave his affection and how dead inside you feel right now despite the fact he is feet away, wanting to know why  _ you _ didn’t message  _ him _ .

“You know what, fuck you, Eridan,” he says, and you swear you hear a waver in his voice.

“Creative insult,” you mutter. He laughs, but his laugh is more exasperated, less maniacal. You wonder if he prefers being embittered or insane.

He stays, despite your lack of responsiveness. He’s just lying on the ground, wanting to be with you, and you don’t get it.

You know he knows you’re diaphanous. You’re glass, breakable with shards to scar those who want to destroy you or play with your pieces. Volatile and transparent, and you know he knows. He’s laying down close to you, fully aware of what you are, but for some strange reason he’s not leaving. You have no protection around your fragile, clear, susceptible self. You don’t want him to break you because you know he can see through you.

Maybe he needs you. 

“Do you ever think about the fact you’re going to outlive me. I mean, the fact you’ve got thuch a ridiculouthly long life thpan?” he asks, out of the blue.

“No,” you respond, even though you guess you do. You kinda did want to quadrant with higher bloods part in due to that.

“You’re going to live for thouthandth and thouthandth upon thouthandth of yearth,” he says, as if in awe. You want to chaff at his sudden admission to realising you are above him in some way, but you know this is not the time or place.

“So? Wwe’re all gonna die sooner rather than later anywways,” 

“But for you it very well could be...”

“Shut up!” you exclaim. “Is this wwhy you came in here at this dismal hour? To remind me that I might havve ta wwatch my lovved ones die?”

“What loved oneth,” he says under his breath, and you can’t take it. Your brain is laced with pain like some grub loaf laced in sopor slime. You let out a sob, stifled yet prominent in the high-intensity room where a pin could drop and shriek. You don’t know how to respond. You don’t know how words are coming out of your mouth.

“Just ‘cause people don’t lovve me doesn’t mean I don’t havve lovved ones you cretinous specimen,” you blather, you words just coming and hopefully they are right. “Wwhat sort of ab..”

“I gueth I wath trying to meathure whether or not you’d care when  _ I _ die,” he cuts you off to say, his voice reticent. 

“Of course I wwould!”

“Problem tholved then,” he concludes, but he still looks upset and withdrawn.

“Wwhy? Wwhy are you asking me this?”

“In cathe I die thoon? Becauthe I’m thcared? What the fuck do you want ED? My vulnerability on a fucking thilver platter?” He breathes heavily.

“Are you just incapable of treatin’ me like a normal troll for fivve seconds? Newwsflash: I’m not your kismesis.”

“You’re ridiculouth. Ith that really what you care about.” Yes? Because you believe nearly every damn word he says? “I thould never have fucking truthted  _ you _ of anyone.”

“You’re not gonna  _ die _ , Sol.”

“I don’t believe you. Why would anything you thay ever matter.” Okay, now he’s just being stubborn, but he does something that opposes his words and tentatively reaches for your hand. You roll your eyes. 

“You don’t havve ta be on the fuckin’ ground Sol. Come here.” For a moment, all you see is him. You know there’s shit going on with you with your future and the entire world in which you reside in, but right now, it’s just him taking up all the messed up corners of your mind. He clambers into the bed with you, still seeming so raw. 

“KK’th worried about you,” Sollux says. You squint at him. 

“Wwhy is that?”

“You jutht... thorta thtopped rethponding.”

“Is that wwhy you’re here?”

“I mean, I am... contherned. Ethpethially thinthe it’th my fault.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Why won’t you respond to KK?”

“I didn’t knoww he messaged me. He must’ve done it after I stopped lookin’.” You stop. Sollux is right here, and you don’t trust him. You don’t trust him at all; in fact, you’re scared of him. You know he’s gonna take every chance to crush you, so you don’t know why you’re about to give it to him. “Your black flirtin’ is kinda dowwnright bullyin’ since wwe’re not together. I...” you don’t know if you can say this. You’re opening the armour on your chest to let him slice right into you. “Already knoww all that stuff you havve ta say.”

“Holy thit, ED.”

“I’m just vvery lonely and sad. That’s wwhy I stopped respondin’.”

“Why didn’t you tell me thith earlier?!” Sollux sits up, and now he’s above you, and you see his psionics start to spark with his fury. Huh. You’d kinda forgotten about those, their absence just making him seem less alien to you.

“Hearin’,” you’re not sure if you can’t say this. Your voice catches, and there’s a lump in your throat. You eventually give up, unable to articulate how impossible it would be to hear him with all the more ammo of your insecurities, picking you apart.

“Not the thort of thing you thay to a ki.. pitch partner,” he clarifies, and you’re grateful. You nod. He relaxes but stay a little elevated. “ED, can we jutht... talk? About real thingth? And not be afraid?”

“Okay.”

“Tho... what have you been doing?”

“Mostly cryin’,” you want to laugh at how he already looks like he’s about to make fun of you. Unless that was actually sadness to mimic your own and empathy or whatever in his eyes. You somehow doubt it despite your lack of being able to read emotions well. “You?”

“Yelling at my computer becauthe I can’t code ath fatht anymore. I don’t even want to do it,” he says, and you suddenly realise how important this is, how important it is for you and for him for you to be there. You raise you head to rest on your palm and look up at him. You need to put his worried expression to ease. Why did either of you ever want to cut the other down?

“You’re still amazin’ at it. I promise you that,” you say, and you smile, and something in your chest is warming. “Wwhy do you lovve codin’ so much?”

“It workth my pan power. I like the thimplithity of the numberth and all the connethionth made at quick rateth utilithing my thinkpan.” He smiles shyly at you, as if he expects you to mock him, or tell him you’re doing this wrong. You’ve never seen him like this before, but you love it, and you love hearing about him because you don’t know him that well, but you want to. “Eridan, there is a couple thingth I jutht... would like to know I gueth. Why are you tho clathitht? What wath with that whole genothide thpiel?” Now he looks as if he expects you to bite his head off for asking, but there is some part of you that has been aching for a really long time that feels validated in being questioned.

“I don’t know. I had a lotta pressure on me, and it made it easier. I’m also the best so my blood must have somethin’ to do wwith it,” you say, suddenly feeling superior, but then he just gives you a  _ look _ , and you say something aloud you’ve never even  _ thought  _ before. “I havve a pretty unstable sense a self.”

“Tho, you directed you threth into planning the death of me and motht of my friendth, and acted haughty to cover up how you hated yourthelf?”

“I could havve killed you all so easily. I think...” how are you supposed to give him a good answer when you haven’t ever thought about this for yourself? “It made it easier so if I did screww up I could pretend I wwanted it.”

“Thcrew up?”

“Feedin’ Fef’s lusus. I did most’vve it. I hated it.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Wwhat do you mean? I did it to help her of courthe?” Sollux blinks, as if trying to take all of this in. 

“You’re tho interethting, ED.” he pauses, and you notice his glasses have slid down his nose a bit, so you stare into his eyes. “What’th your favourite colour? I’m thure you know mine...” You were so busy staring into his blue eye that you came out with that. He says he thought it would’ve been purple.

You two continue like this, some questions deep, some surface level. You don’t ask him about how crazy he’s been, and he doesn’t ask you about your current state. You talk about each other’s pasts and factoids. 

You’ve never been more in love. Of course, you’re still terrified he’s going to turn this all around, use all this new information he’s gotten from stripping your heart bare and use it against you, twist you up in ways you haven’t been, mess you up further. But at least he’s open with you now. 

You learn how he hates thinking in abstracts therefore how other people are feeling or thinking because his pan is more suited to operational power. You tell him about why you love history, about how it makes it seem okay to sacrifice the few for the many. He calls you a goddamn tragedy, but you think he means it in a positive light, as if he’s thinking of how you overcame it, and not what you actually are.

He tells you Fef was wrong about you. It hurts, but you realise you’ve wanted someone to come to this conclusion desperately. You tell him you’d been wrong about him, but he stops you at that, saying how he didn’t sleep the night before because he was coding, and how you two should sleep. You agree, and you see him face away from you.

Timidly, you put your arm around his waist. He doesn’t pull away. You don’t know what just happened between the two of you, but you feel happy in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

He mumbles “ _ You’re alright, ED _ ,” out to you before he’s out.


	12. Chapter 12

You toss and tangle in your sleep, the idea of sleep so foreign when half of your life is this weird concept, and you’re very surprised at how  _ out _ Sollux is. He doesn’t wake up even when you half fall asleep then have a dream of drowning (which is quite ironic, if you do say so yourself) and wake gasping for air, drenched in sweat, even if that sweat is probably more due to the heat than anything else.

He makes things even more warm. He’s heating you up, but the temperature is already a little on the high side, so you’re uncomfortable. You finally fall asleep and wake slowly out of dreams made of nonsense. He’s facing you when you wake, his eyes gazing into yours.

“Thleep in much, ED?” he asks, and you squint at him. He smirks, and you get that he knows he must’ve been sleeping for a long time. Things shift more into place.

“You’re still here,” you say. He shrugs. 

“It’th cold in my room. Here it’th the perfect temperature minuth your freezing ath,” he says. “Can I...?” he asks, leaning in towards your face. You squint at him angrily because you really don’t know what is going on at all. Were you flipping together? Was he just having another mood swing? You couldn’t tell, but you did pull away aggressively after he leant the rest of the way in the press his lips against yours while you poutted a tiny bit. 

“What? Thuddenly not want to kith me?” he says, and though it’s accusatory, you do notice something open and fragile in his tone. Right now it makes you want to bite at him.

“I don’t wwant some land scum to kiss me wwhen I’m not evven in his quadrants? Wwhy wwould you think that?!” you demand. You think he looks hurt for a second, but his words don’t match up which makes you angry because you  _ failed _ .

“Becauthe you’re deth...” he stops as your face is probably purple and heated because  _ honestly _ , but his snicker fades. He shrugs. “Becauthe we both want to.”

“Is that wwhat you wwant from me then?” He looks at you, but whatever he’s thinking seems clouded.

“No...?” he looks at you as if this is some sort of test. Which it’s not. If that’s what he wants from you whatever he can just fuck off. Okay well... 

“Do you hate me, ED?” he asks. He turns away from you after asking, eyes darting about. You can feel his literal energy in the air, but the colours remain hidden.

“I mean... I...” you search through your brain. Of course you don’t. You don’t think you ever did. “I’m black for you.” You try to meet his gaze, moving your head around to match your eyes to his, but fail and probably look ridiculous.

“Tho fucking black. Thure. You either hate me or you don’t tho.” He pauses, but he hadn’t asked you a question, even if his words demanded clarification. 

“Think you might already havve the answwer to that one,” you say miserably. He puts his hand on yours, and the touch is gentle and overwhelming, but he still won’t meet your gaze. Warmth lights up your body. Happiness? Yeah, you think that’s the word. You’re happy. You’re happy he’s trusting you; you’re happy he stayed; you’re happy he’s acting red or pale or whatever the heck he’s doing towards you. You want to kiss him.

“How much ene..” he starts, finally looking at you with some glee and that smirk before it washes over with a jerk of his head. He slaps your face.

Your guard was so utterly down your body has no idea how to deal with the sudden shock from the pain. Usually your response is angry, but this time you just start sobbing embarrassingly. Sollux hasn’t said anything, his expression blank, staring at you and shaking a bit. After you gain better control of yourself, after rehearsing and losing the words through the confusion in your mind time and time again, you finally come up with a retort.

“Don’t fuckin’ be here if you’re gonna maltreat me you unstable pilgarlic,” you say, speaking mostly to yourself. You feel his hand touch yours again, his fingers meeting your tight knuckle. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” Shit, tears were breaking through again. You wiped your face once to hide the super obvious evidence.

“I’m thorry,” Sollux says quietly. 

“Wwhat’s the rest of the plan? Gonna go tell evv-vveryone about how pathetic I am? Use my owwn fuckin’ wwords?”

“Pleathe calm down,” Sollux says. You stare his him outright, actually paying attention to him instead of your burning embarrassment and feelings of betrayal. He looks hurt. You try to translate your thoughts that are closer to your actual emotions for him, but you get lost and confused in your mind. He looks lost too. Or maybe he just is putting on a poker face before he assaults you again. “I can’t  _ think _ ,” he says. You wrap your arms around yourself as tightly as you can.

“Wwhat’s goin’ on?” He looks at you wide-eyed, as if he really never expected to be asked that. 

“I really want to hurt you,” he admits. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment. 

“Wwhy? Am I that reprimandable?” Your voice is quiet now. Will you ever not be lost him his mind games? He pulls you in towards him, and before you know it he’s biting at your lips. You push him back and spit in his face. “Get the fuck awway from me, you bushwwhackin’ piece of utter  _ shit _ .” He doesn’t move or respond, so you raise your voice even more. “Get out of my block!”

It takes him a second, but he does get up, wiping your saliva of his cheek. He’s shaking, and that pulls on your heart, and  _ fuck,  _ you pity him you love him you just want him okay so fucking badly. You don’t know what just happened. You want to tell him to come back, that you’re sorry. You just watch him leave. He seems lost and confused, and you feel awful. You hate yourself even more than you did before he ever came.

The door shutting behind him, echoing in your room, is entirely your fault.

You guess you were just scared.

\---

It takes you approximately two minutes to make a better decision and go out of your block--for the first time in ages--to find him. It takes about a minute as he’s walking aimlessly away, his stride slow with little red and blue sparks going about. 

“Sol!” you call out, and he turns to face you. He meets your gaze, nil glasses, and you notice some pale yellow tears coming down his face. He looks down a second later, but he doesn’t move away. “Come.. come back. Okay?” When he doesn’t move, you go to grab his wrist. His body is hotter than normal, which apparently you’re able to tell at this point, and you’d think he was a rust blood with how much he seems to be burning up. He doesn’t flinch away from you, so you gently tug him towards your room. He does end up following you, and something flowery blooms inside of you because you think you’re actually about to make some  _ good _ decisions. But then again, every time you think you are doing something good it turns out to be reprehensible. When the door shuts behind you, and you’re back into the safeguard of your block, your relax by degrees and sit down on your bed, gesturing for Sollux to do the same. He sits, but refuses to look at you.

“Thometimeth I with the rethet never happened,” Sollux says quietly. You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. You close your eyes, unsure how to respond; unsure how to filter the pain curling up from the ice moving up to your chest.

“Same,” you say. Does it make it better that you’re not alone in wanting yourself dead? You decide it doesn’t, it really really doesn’t. You decide this is much worse, and you should probably kill yourself now. You don’t say anything else, and neither does he, and you feel like you’re being slowly incinerated with cold pain just sitting there, waiting for him to say anything that could make this not hurt so much. Anything to make you not regret being alive.

You knew you weren’t wanted, that your life was essentially worthless to others, but hearing  _ Sollux _ say he wishes the only cause for you to even be here to have not happened? It’s so much worse than you could’ve ever expected.

Sollux finally looks at you again, and only out of some remnant of broken pride do you force yourself to look at him. His eyes are still so daunting. 

“You’d be blind though,” you say. Your voice barely shakes.

“Becauthe of you,” he adds. You refrain from letting your whole body shudder as you breathe in shallowly. In some sort of sick way, once you pass the guilt, you feel proud that at least there would be  _ something  _ in that universe to remember you by since you doubt anyone really would.

“Wwhy tell me this?” you ask. Is this specifically aimed at you? Is he saying he regrets you being alive at all? Or does he just miss being on a timeline that wasn’t fucked?

“The voitheth are jutht. I have a vague memory of not having them,” he says. “I feel like none of thith would have ever fucking happened if they hadn’t been here thtill.”

“At least Fef and Kan are alive,” you say. You don’t say anyone else because they feel distant compared to the pain of Feferi and Kanaya. You don’t even know if Kanaya will  _ ever _ speak to you again, but  _ thank everything _ they’re both alive.

“Right, and like, Nepeta and Equiuth. Fuck, and you,” Sollux adds. “I know it’th a.. I mean it  _ ith  _ a fucking miracle.” He snickers, and you have no idea how he can do that during a discussion like this. You want to cut back to the chase; you want to demand whether or not he’s actually glad  _ you’re  _ alive. Something in his phrasing, something illuminated, but you can’t  _ think _ . “Wait, why would you altho thay that? Wouldn’t you jutht be dead?” You shrug.

“Thought that’s wwhat you wwere gettin’ at,” you say, and you try to say it in the most monotone voice you can muster because you don’t care. Look at you, a perfect picture of nonchalant. Why would you care about what  _ Sollux  _ thought? He’s just some creepy lowblood who you happened to let be your kismesis for a bit. You both are sitting there in silence until you notice he’d been trying to meet your gaze. You look at him, but it hurts.

“ED, fuck. I don’t..” you see his body jerk a bit. “I don’t how I would’ve... I’m very glad you’re alive.” You can’t believe you can still look at him. You want to shrink back into the back of your body, and you feel yourself retreating. What sort of honesty bullshit is this?

“Yeah, I’m sure I wwas just  _ so _ helpful as your fuckin’ kismesis,” you reply with bitter sarcasm. You see his hand reach for yours tentatively, and you’re so confused, but he pulls away. You put yours over his.

“I’m thorry for hurting you,” he says. 

“Wwhy did you, then?” 

“You have a chethboard. Why don’t you play me?” he says, the most ridiculous change of subject ever. “Thee if your thuperior thrategy thkillth athually match up?” He butchers about every word with his lisp.

“Sol, wwhy did you hurt me?”

“Becauthe my pan workth _perfectly_ , and I thought it wath the _betht_ thing to do.” You feel his hand shift under yours.

“Wwell, don’t again.”

“I can try,” he responds. 

“No, just don’t,” you say simply.

“KK doethn’t hate you; no one really doeth. We thould jutht thtop,” he says. You’re not sure what that means, but you don’t like it.

“Wwhat, the urge to suddenly attack me isn’t wworth quellin’?”

“If I do, can’t you jutht like punch me back or thomething? Knock me out with your thienthe thtick of thtupidity?”

“Fine. Wwhatevver. Let’s just play the game,” you finally say frustrated. He looks at you with his damned eyes, and how can he just make you  _ melt _ like that?

“Thorry.”

“Don’t look all sad and expect me ta go easy on you,” you say. He grins wickedly.

“We both know I don’t need that.”

He’s right. After an hour of strategic moves and thinking ten steps ahead like you always do, he still wins. He’s definitely smarter than any computer on challenge mode. You say he cheated, it wasn’t fair, and he calls you a sore loser. But you both decide to play again anyways.

Neither of you mention any sparks of his psionics or lack of them. You’re very dedicated to the game.


	13. Chapter 13

You have no idea where either of the two of you stand, but Sollux does keep coming back. Every night he comes to your bedroom, complaining about the heat of his compared to yours, and talks to you pretty much all night long. You’ve taken to what would be considered “sleeping in” if there were any sunset to go by.

“Wwhat did you wwant out of your future back on Alternia,” you ask. You’d been starting to doze while he was restless, shaking his foot--in turn jostling the bed. He shrugs.

“Jutht to not be a thip mothtly,” he replied. “I didn’t think about it much.”

“Come on. You musta had some sorta dream.” He shrugs again, and the way he’s acting so nonchalant makes you believe it all the more.

“I’m jutht glad we got away from that thit planet.” You waggle your eyebrows at him.

“Dodgin’ the question, Sol?” He chortles at your ridiculous expression.

“You know how I’m bathit inthane at computerth?”

“An your ego is impeccable.” 

“Yeah, whatever, well I thort of wanted to be notithed for it and have thomeone utilithe that inthtead of jutht turning me into a fucking thip,” he pauses, “Which ith ridiculouth becauthe the empire could care leth about thome thit-thponge lowblood ekthuthe of a hacker bethideth to fry hith pan.” You freeze at that. It takes you a moment to respond.

“Fef wwouldn’t’vve let that happen,” you say, but he just scoffs. 

“Like hell she cou...,” he pauses, squinting, psionics flaring up, sparking. “Fuck you." 

“Are you evver gonna tell me wwhat the fuck is up wwith you?” You suppose things are sort of coming to the head of a pin. Or maybe you just react out of proportion. There’s anger in your voice because this always fucking happens, and you’re sick of it. He hasn’t hurt you since that first night besides rushes of his psionics, but it’s always there. It’s like this animosity that just comes out of nowhere at you, and you’re angry because you can’t tell what any of this means. It feels like he’s attacking you, and for some reason you trust him more than you’ve ever trusted anyone.

“I tell you all the fuck ith up with me,” he says, and you want to point out that that sentence did not make much sense. “No, I jutht go around telling everyone my pathetic wiggler dreamth, you caught me ED. Real thmart aren’t you.”

“You knoww wwhat I mean!”

“What? You want to know how fucked up I am? Why don’t you ethplain your own thide too ED? Have you even methaged KK onthe? Anyone at all? Do you even talk to  _ anyone  _ bethideth me?” he asks, and shit, he’s right, but you’re  _ obvious _ . You’re pathetic and lonely and depressed and screwed up. He’s known that since before you were kismeses. It’s not some unknown thing he doesn’t know how to deal with; hell, when you were kismeses he’d pick you apart for it. You already know; you already know, but for some reason him bringing it up right now after everything hurts even  _ more _ than when you were together, and you feel your eyes burn. 

“I already fuckin’ knoww. You already fuckin’ knoww. I’m wworse than evverybody. Wwhatevver sad excuse of projection you havve goin’ on here just shovve it up your spinal crevvice and tell me  _ wwhat the fuck is goin’ on wwith you _ ,” you give out; you’re panting. He’s staring at you, barely reacting at all to anything you said. You slightly curl your head down since he’s somehow gotten far enough away from you that the space is intense between you two. You want to go back to talking about the first time he met Aradia in person, her bright eyes and smile, even if it makes your chest tighten up and your breath hitch.

“And if I don’t? What are you going to do? Thtop talking to the only perthon you’ve talked to in forever? Pleathe, ED. You’re dethperate,” he says, and you need to backtrack. You need to. He hasn’t said anything like this; why did this push his buttons so much? Why is he so  _ scared _ ? Because you can recognise that, despite the fact your face is burning up, and you’re thinking of something to say to save some sort of dignity you don’t actually possess. Now you’re crying. This happens every night too: at some point you cry. Usually Sollux doesn’t notice, and usually it’s because of his stupid mood swings throwing you off balance or darting flashing colours that feel like violence in the darkness.

“Yeah, actually. Howw about that. Wwhy don’t you just fuckin’  _ leavve _ ,” and you are  _ not  _ being melodramatic this time; this is called for. You don’t look up to him, but instead sit up and turn away from him. You do not care about him at all. How dare he treat you like this after telling you soft stories and listening to you ramble on about porcelain moonlit bays. 

“At leatht I’m getting better,” he gives out, not responding to how you just told him to leave.

“I don’t wwanna talk to you  _ Thollukth,  _ so go fuck yourself.”

“You’re not theriouth,” he says, and you turn your head to glance at him because he sounds so small. 

“A ‘Course I am. Bein’ alone is better than bein’ around you so fuckin’  _ leavve _ ,” you say, spitting it out of the corner of your mouth towards him. You feel yourself suddenly being lifted up, and you bite back a scream. “Wwhat the  _ fuck _ , Sol!” you say, as you’re now lifted a foot or two off your lovvely human bed. He turns you to face him, and you see undiluted fear in his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he says. You grimace at him.

“Let me dowwn,” you say, and he drops you abruptly. 

“What ith goin’, going on is. Everything was fatht and thurreal and now everything is violent and thurreal.”

“Is it somethin’ to do with the vvoices? Your psionics?”

“No. But they’re not the motht helpful.” “We glubbed it out enough now? Can I get back to feeling like an athole?”

“So you just don’t knoww,” you say. 

“I’m fucked up. I’m horrible and mutated and jutht  _ methed up _ ,” he says. You shrug. 

“You gotta a bunch a friends, you’re super smart, evverybody  _ lovves _ you,” you say. You don’t mention the piece he’s already said, the piece eating at you because he knows right where to push your buttons:  _ all I have is you _ .

“What like FF?” The buzzing in your brain stops. You both rarely talked about her, and you ever only did because of its relevance to your childhood. Not what she means, or what she could ever represent.

“Sure,” you say bitterly. He laughs, and he comes towards your face as if he’s going to kiss you but stops. His face is too close to yours. “Wwhat are you doin’?”

“I couldn’t even be enough for  _ you _ ,” he says, and there’s so much venom in his words, in his addressal of  _ you _ , that you falter at responding that he’s too much for you, not too little. He scoffs at your speechlessness before you can reply. Your mind whites out before you remember you should say something because the only sound now is of each of your breathing, and his is erratic.

“You wwere the one who broke up wwith me, so don’t go pullin’ that self-pityin’ tommyrot.” You feel a hand your leg; he’s so warm.

“You’re tho melodramatic,” he replies, which makes you angrier because you just want him to  _ care _ about you. “I’ll kill you Thol! Kill me Thol!” You’re face is burning, and he’s looking at you, pausing, and you want it all to stop, to end. You want to beat his face into the wall across the room till it’s bloody then kiss away the tears you’d make him cry. “Like theatricth athide, what wath that?”

“You are so bad at changin’ the subject, Sol,” you reply. He is. But he’s still looking at you concerned, and that doesn’t make sense. “Wwhat?!”

“Why would you thay ‘Kill me’? Are you really that bad at inithiating altercationth?”

“Wwhy the fuck do you care?” you ask. “My sensationalism gettin’ to you?”

You’re glaring at him full on now, his hands now tight by below his chest. Mostly, he looks at you as if he’s trying to read you, but he keeps glancing to your lips, and it frustrates you because it reminds you that he does actually want to fucking be with you, but being in a quadrant with you isn’t worth it. Why would you ever be worth it? You’d never be worth his time of day.

“Eridan, do you,” he pauses, squinting at you as if he’s unsure how to word whatever he’s saying, and yes, you want to kiss him too; you really do. “Want to die?” 

You’re suddenly taken aback, not processing what he just asked.

“Wwhat? Wwhy wwould you ask me that?”

“It’th jutht,” he stops again, looking down. “You’re cuttin’ people out and theem thad and thit,” he explains. 

“I’m not the one wwith a creepy obsession with his ex-kismesis who lashes out at people evvery second of the day!” you retort; you definitely do not want to be having this conversation with him. And you’re not cutting people out! You’re just respecting the fact that no one wants to fucking talk to you! Sollux looks really uneasy. He mutters something about the irony of lashing out before continuing.

“You want to live then? Projecthion athide?” You don’t meet his eyes when you mutter something out. “What?”

“Wwell there’s not exactly much to livve for,” you repeat miserably. You so did not want to have this conversation with him, but at the same time you’re not about to lie to him. You’re not going to hide or omit your life from him. And you don’t know why; it’s not like you usually like that he can see right through you and knows so much about you. You stop pondering that at his hesitant response.

“I’m here,” he says. And you can tell, just like he said before, like he’s talked about, he really doesn’t know how to deal with any of this. It makes you love him the more. And then you remember who the two of you are. You remember the fact that you have been enamoured in every way by him, that everything you’ve been thinking about and all your points to your days have been revolving around him. 

“Livve for interaction wwith my ex-kismesis of wwhat? How long wwere wwe evven together? Wwoww, howw pathetic wwould that be?” You feel attacked because there’s too much truth to it. “And wwhat before that? Someone I wwent to for stupid, fuckin’ duels; god that wwas pathetic.”

“Thtop callin’ me that.” His voice is still sedated, and it’s becoming more characteristic. 

“Wwhat?”

“I’m more than your. Y’know. Right?”

“Ex-kismesis?” You see him cringe slightly.

“Yeah”

“You’re right,” you say, and you feel that warmness blooming again, like a hot beverage after a relatively cold swim. He is right, and you’ve been feeling this all over for so long. For you it’s red and pale, a smeared mess. You want to kiss him and reassure him that he’s enough for you. You want to live to make sure he’s okay. Hell, isn’t that what this has all been about? You both making sure the other is okay? You almost ask him what he thinks you are to one another; if he does want to be in another one of your quadrants. But you chicken out with the intense fear he’ll do something like laugh at you and the warmness would turn to either ice or uncomfortable flames. So instead you curl down next to him, looking up, and he lies down to meet you. He still looks unsure, concerned, confused,  _ something. _ You don’t know what to do about that. You hold his hand and stroke it to try to reassure him, and damn, yeah, this is pale. But is black-pale vacillation even a thing though? And you definitely still want to pail* him. 

You put quadrants out of your mind for a bit, and just stare into his eyes. He’s so easily made uncomfortable, and before it felt mocking to you, as if you weren’t good enough for him, but now it just feels as if he’s also scared in the same way you are.

You feel your eyes getting droopy after quite a while of silence, and let them close, still holding onto his hand. 

You’re content in a way you never expected to feel, and that in itself feels like something worth living for. If you think about him, it grows into a happiness and acceptance that feels like euphoria. But just being by him now, not trying force anything and letting your brain slip down into sleep, you feel  _ content _ . It’s alien to you in a way humans aren’t. Maybe you’ve felt flickers of this before, but never quite like this.

As you fall asleep, you realise that loving somebody can just feel  _ comfortable _ .


	14. Chapter 14

You’re concerned. 

Not that you haven’t been since the beginning, not that the very thought of Sollux wanting to be your kismesis was scarily out of character, but now you were.. Terrified.

Because he was fast and choppy, and things were getting better, but he was getting irritated so much. You remember at first when it was surreal, when he would look at you like you were holding him down when your body was touching his, securing him in some way to this world around him. There was always that energy, and you knew it would be coursing through him, buzzing right by you, even without the manifestations of the blue and the red and the light you saw in him.

But now he was scared. It wasn’t just a matter of seeking relationships he usually wouldn’t want or accusing someone he hates of killing him. Now it was a matter of him, being afraid himself of this slowing down, so angry at you at random things, then getting scared or defensive when he realised it.

You did something you should’ve done a while ago--you decided to spend some quality time on the internet. 

You tried searching for “Mutant yellowblood fast,” but realised you were on the human internet system going through Rose’s hub, so you changed the search to “Crazy fast syndrome”. The first thing that came up was “Excited Delirium Syndrome” headline “Crazy.. Then Dead!” and you immediately had a feeling of dread flood your body and your breath catch. You decided you did not want to learn about whatever was going on with Sollux, and it was just some normal lowblood thing to go through, something the humans wouldn’t understand.

Your concern lets you continue reading anyways. None of it made sense. It’s a bunch of human mumbo jumbo that makes your head hurt and does nothing to help your overwhelming anxiety. You exit out of that and look at the other results. Something about your leg kicking, which doesn’t fit Sollux, then you notice on the first page there is a majority of articles on “bipolar disorder,” so you click into some of them. Instead of trying to navigate those articles, you just google that. It kind of catches your eye because of the whole “bi” thing. Sollux and his “twos”.

_ “Mania symptoms include periods of elevated mood or irritability. When experiencing a manic episode, a patient often has high energy levels with reduced need for sleep. Less often, people may experience psychosis. Depression symptoms include feeling sad, low energy, low motivation, or loss of interest in previously enjoyable activities. _ ”

Sollux definitely has had elevated energy levels and less of a need to sleep, so you decide to google “mania”. You read a full article on it, and you realise that this very well could be what Sollux is experiencing, if trolls can experience it. Because he’s been more talkative, thoughts moving fast through texting you, agitated and jumping subjects. “ _ Mania can be accompanied by psychosis, a disconnect from reality often seen as delusions or auditory/visual hallucinations _ .”

You throw your glasses across the room. Too much for you. Doesn’t exist. Sollux is  _ fine _ . Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine. Just fine. He’s just Sollux, and you  love  accept him nonetheless. You sent him a message anyways, begrudgingly grabbing your glasses.

CA: youvve nevver been fuckin depressed or some shit havve you  
TA: that ii2 2ome elementary grade projectiion riight there 2o tran2parent a wiiggler could 2ee through iit  
CA: i wwill take that as a no

You breathe a sigh of relief. There’s nothing wrong with him; you don’t know why you’re getting yourself so worked up.

TA: come play thii2 human board game wiith KK and 2ome other friiend2  
TA: your re2piiteblock mu2t get boriing  
CA: human board games sound borin  
TA: dont wa2te away on me now  
CA: fiine  
CA: fine  
TA: meet me iin the hallway out2iide your block in twenty miinute2

twinArmageddons [TA]  ceased trolling  caligulasAquarium [CA]

You spend some actual time on your appearance in that next twenty minutes, something you had not done in a long time. You gel your hair and fasten your cape and blacken your lips to a perfect shade. Something made this feel like a date. You needed out; everything was getting old in this block and the details on the ceiling bored you after a while. You missed Karkat too, even if you were shaking at the mere thought of who else “some other friends” could mean.

Sollux looked good too, when he picked you up. His hair looked washed instead of the greasy mess it usually looked and his shirt looked less crinkled. He looked clean. He holds your hand as you guys walk to presumably a warm, nicely lit space. You meet some other trolls and humans in the hall, and you see Karkat. The blue human John is there too, along with the royalty of Rose, as you still thought of her. And Kanaya. 

She met your eyes briefly before looking away. She didn’t say anything. You feel phantom pains around your stomach, biting at you till you feel like there’s nothing there, like you can’t move your feet, and you’re helpless. Sollux’s grip on your hand tightens, and you focus on that as Karkat greets him and glares at you. You don’t really care, which you guess is weird since you cared so much just a little while ago. You  _ had _ been ignoring him recently. You didn’t care. You didn’t; you didn’t; you didn’t.

“Long time, no see,” Kanaya greets you. She doesn’t sound cold, and you kind of wish she would choose the moral low ground, which would be completely within her right. Call you out and make a scene like Karkat did, but then not forgive you or give you a chance since  _ you _ hurt  _ her _ .

“I don’t think I’ve ever had the courtesy of meeting the piece of utter wriggler excrement there,” Karkat says, but it seems soft in some way, as if he’s not trying to scare you off, but more like made a point. That meaning falls on nearly deaf ears though because it feels like violence, and you want to  _ tear _ .

“Let me introduthe you then, thith ith Eridan,” Sollux says. He meets your gaze, searching deep. You roll your eyes. “My matethprit.”

Karkat does not look shocked at all, but rather snickers, so you do too. You feel hot, hot, hot; burning, you pull your hand from Sollux’s as if his contact could sear into your flesh. Was this his plan? To fucking humiliate you? He was under your skin, in everything you wanted, in the fuel that kept you going, and now it is all acrid, the astringent flavour burning your atoms. He was still looking at you, his eyes forlorn in some sort of attempt for  _ something _ , something mocking. While you were trying to figure out how to help him, concerned about him, he had been thinking about how to precisely wound you. You could no longer sense, or feel, or tell. Nothing was real except this pain. He must’ve known that you wanted him--of course he did. You dimly hear a “congratulations” from someone; it sounded like Kanaya. It wouldn’t’ve have been Kanaya. 

“Haha,” you say, trying to save  _ something _ . As if it wasn’t clear from the pain on your face that he had known exactly which buttons to push. As if you weren’t a pathetic, murderous  _ nothing _ who was deplorable enough to have red feelings towards his ex-kismesis. “As if I’d be your matesprit in any swweep evven  _ I _ could livve through, so less in your puny lifetime,” you respond, your voice harsh. 

Something cold happens on Sollux’s face. What? Why does everyone in the room still the way they do? Was it really that dumb of a response to something like that? It seemed perfectly reasonable, even if it were a complete lie.

You keep looking at Sollux intensely, and there is definitely pronounced anger on his face. Did he not expect you to challenge him? Did he expect you to just let him humiliate you without any retaliation even as ridiculous as an obvious response? The anger is so pronounced; his psionics spark. 

“Duel me,” he says, cold. Nobody else says anything, but something inside of you is breaking even further. Weren’t you passed this? Didn’t he care about you in  _ some  _ way?

“Sol, I don’t wanna fight..” you say, and you know the pain of this seeped into your voice and makes you look weak. You think you also hear Rose ask if she should auspisticise which is ridiculous considering how very much  _ not  _ kismeses you were; how very much not  _ anything _ you were.

“Fucking  _ duel me! _ ” he seethes, and it chills you--you’re actually scared.

“No, S-Sol, I don’t wanna,” you say, and you feel a blast of psionics knock you backwards. The impact of the concrete with your body leaves you momentarily breathless, and he walks closer to you again. You’re really scared now. You don’t carry weapons on you anymore anyways, in addition to the fact you don’t want to hurt him and don’t know if you could (actually, you know you could; you know you can hurt people you love (that part of you is thankful he holds all the power again)).

“Maybe it’s time to calm the fuck down,” you hear Karkat say. You sit up before Sollux blasts you back again, and you hit your head. You’re not sure how much it’s truly healed, so that damage probably isn’t a good thing, but you don’t care. You care more about the fact you’ve resigned to this. He isn’t pinning you down, and something makes you feel like that must mean he actually does care in some way. You really wish you didn’t have an audience, though. 

“Not going to fight back yet?” he asks, and you don’t, and he kneels down next you, and you can’t make sense of whatever happens next because it’s piercing pain and adrenaline. You’re faintly aware he’s hitting your face, and people are telling him to calm down. You faintly recognise Karkat pulling him off you, which surprises you since you’d expect them to just not care if he were to beat you to death right there. A dark part of you might have welcomed it.

“Did you hear what he fuckin’ thaid?  _ Did you hear what he fucking thaid _ ,” you hear Sollux yell, and he’s thrashing, sending Karkat back with his psionics.

“ _ Sollux _ what the  _ fuck _ ,” Karkat gives out, catching his stance and breath. You can’t see very well, you think one of your eyelids is swollen, and everything hurts, but you can see Sollux trembling on the ground beside you now, trembling so fucking much with psionics flaring brilliant red and blue. He comes back towards you, and you’re shaking.

“Sollux!” Kanaya gives out, and as she comes near him Sollux wises up, and backs off. He then storms away, and Karkat follows him. “Are you okay?” she asks, but she scares you more, and you don’t know if you can move the bottom half of your body. Do you have control? Do you?

“Yeah,” you say nonchalantly. “Of course.”

“We’re going to go see what’s up with him,” Kanaya says, but you see Rose, and you remember her pesterchum and the fact that “therapy” was listed for a treatment of bipolar. 

“Wwait, Rose,” you say, trying to sit up, grunting in the process. “Do you knoww about...” The memory of Sollux terrified, thinking you were trying to kill him flashes intensely in your mind, and you feel it so intensely.  “ _ Mania can be accompanied by psychosis, a disconnect from reality often seen as delusions or auditory/visual hallucinations _ .” “Nevermind.” She looks at you concerned, which shocks you since you’ve been nothing but rude to her and she’s ignored you consistently back when you gave a shit, but it keeps something that’s so broken from all of this feeling safer. “Sorry the game was ruined.”

“You’d think we’d be sick of games at this point,” she responded, and Kanaya smiled. “Good luck,” she added, before she and Kanaya left.

John stays by you and gives you a hand up. You would’ve thought he would’ve gone off with Karkat, but he hadn’t. He walks you back to your block, steadying you with wind that felt similar to blasts of psionics which makes your heart ache.

“For what it’s worth, looks like it might have been a good idea rejecting Sollux if he clearly has violence issues. Till next time?” he says, saying farewell.  _ Rejection _ ? Is John saying you made the right choice by not fighting back? 

“Thank you. Farewwell,” you respond, before going to collapse on your bed. You’re half way into a painful haze of sleep when your trollian starts to beep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're so fucking dramatic and insecure it's ridiculous pls fix it
> 
> also if you ever want to know anything about bipolar disorder don't be afraid to ask  
> me (or talk about anything from mental illness to your day)
> 
> NOTE:  
> this portrayal of mental illness is as accurate as someone with said mental illness can  
> make it. However, there are a lot of factors put together and /no one/ experiences it  
> the same way. Sollux is not even human. His violence is indicative of being a troll more  
> than this state. I have personally never acted out on violence while in manic  
> states and have known a lot of people who haven't.
> 
> My point is, yes I am trying to make this accurate as possible for the way I envision  
> him experiencing this disorder, but that does not mean any of his symptoms or how  
> he deals with it are global or should be stereotyped as such


	15. Chapter 15

twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling caligulasAquarium [CA] 

TA: what wa2 htat 2uppo2ed tow fuckin b ethen  
TA: you are so pahtetiic iin every 2en2ee of the word  
TA: ii cant belliieve  
TA: are you no teven goiing two an2wer me  
TA: do ii need twwo come ba2h your face iin 2ome more  
CA: holy SHIT sol this is harassment  
CA: wwhy not anywways  
CA: wwe can meet out in front of evveryone too noww that the fact you are losin your fuckin mind isnt a secret anymore  
TA: eiither ii2 probably a lot of thiing2  
CA: wwhat the fuck is that supposed to mean  
TA: iit mean2 fuck you for every thiing

Your blood runs colder.

CA: wwhat did you say  
CA: sol i trusted you i fuckin  
TA: wwhat are you gonna fuckiing crry or s2omeshii2t  
CA: i am an wwhats up with your quirk  
TA: what2 up wiith you at all  
CA: sol wwhat did you say  
TA: who the fuck are you  
TA: what doe2 CA mean  
CA: caligulasAquarium.  
CA: eridan? ed?  
CA: sol wwhat did you say  
CA: SOL

You’re shaking and crying, and you don’t understand how he could do all of this to you. Hurt you and betray you, and what the fuck did you expect? This is Sollux. You’ve been trusting Sollux fucking Captor. Why did you have to trust him. Why?

He doesn’t respond for several minutes.

TA: ii dont know  
TA: can ii come over  
CA: wwhat do you MEAN you dont know you blitheriin excuse for a cognitive bein  
CA: come ovver and wwhat  
CA: bash my fuckin face in  
CA: i think i wwill pass  
TA: plea2e  
CA: wwhy  
CA: wwhy the FUCK wwould i wwant you near me  
CA: the thought SCARES me you asshole  
TA: there2 blood everywhere  
CA: wwhat  
CA: wwhos blood  
CA: wwhat the fuck did you do  
TA: ii thiink iit2 miine iit2 yellow ii thiink iit2 goiing to  
TA: can ii  
CA: ok but that doesnt mean i dont still fuckin hate you

caligulasAquarium [CA]  ceased trolling  twinArmageddons [TA]

When Sollux gets to your block a few minutes later he’s out of breath and wide-eyed. He’s shaking. You can’t see any blood though. Did he say that just to worry and manipulate you?

“I..” he starts, and then he starts mumbling what sounds like algorithms of some sort, low and fast. You sit with him on your human bed and shake when you think of the dreams and secrets you shared with him that he just told you might not be so secret anymore.

“Wwhat did you say,” you ask, your voice low.

“I can’t remember. Pathetic. Liketh to be touched. Dethperate,” he says quickly, before shaking uncontrollably looking at his hands. “I’m thorry, I’m thorry,” he says. “ED, are you alright?”

“I’ll livve,” you reply, and you will.

“How?” He looks at you before he suddenly lets out a blood-shattering scream. You're scared, and don't know what to do to help or calm him, so you just pet his face.

“Shh,” you say. “You’re okay.”

“There’th,” he says, eyes open so wide staring intensely at you, whimpering but no longer screaming. “Thomething wrong.”

“You’re going to be okay.”

“I haven’t been thleeping.”

“Let’s sleep noww,” you say.

“It’s all purple,” he says, pointing to your duvet. It is purple, but you don’t know why he’d object to that. You remove it anyways.

“You can keep me wwarm,” you say. “I’ll be right back.” You still have a recuperacoon, for in case your daymares get too intense, so you take some sopor from it and put it in some water. It looks green and disgusting, but you doubt he’ll even really notice.

“Sollux, drink this,” you say. He does, and within minutes he seems dazed, but more placid. He starts mumbling about the blood getting bloodier and makes puling noises now and then, but you pull him close to you, and eventually he does manage to fall asleep.

He sleeps for fourteen hours.

You look at more bipolar symptoms.

He wakes up confused.

“ED, why doeth my pan hurt?” he slurs, still affected by the sopor. “I’m tho tired.”

“Wwhen wwas the last time you felt tired like this?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember. A few weekth ago? My pan really hurtth, did you do thomething?” You give out a shaking laugh. Your head hurts too. You’re also very tired, considering you didn’t sleep all day.

“Wwell, wwhen you fuckin’ attacked me I didn’t do much, did I?”

“It doethn’t feel like my uthual migaineth though.” He tries to sit up; he does look woozy. You sit down and put your hands on his arms to steady him.

“Sol, I understand things are confusin’ for you and all, but wwhy did you have to mock me then attack me like that?” You suddenly feel so full of fucking pride, on top of the world really, dealing with this in the most mature way possible.

“I can’t,” he looks down and then removes your hands. “I thought we were different. I can’t really remember.”

“Different howw?”

“Fuck you. You know how,” he says, and while he’s dejected, you’re not really scared. He seems weak now, deflated.

“You’re the one who wwent and...” you don’t want to continue. “I thought wwe wwere different too.”

“Couldn’t you have jutht thaid we weren’t together?” he says.

“Couldn’t you havve just not fuckin’ gone and said it in the first place?” You look at him, and how weak he looks, and are further angered by how much you don’t want to hurt him. You turn to the left to punch your bed-frame, but find your hand frozen midway with the familiar feeling of his psionics. It makes you angrier, but it probably makes your hand less so.

“I gueth I thought you... Though you never wanted. I mean, pale maketh more thenthse in retrothpect, and I doubt you’d want that now anywayth,” he says. He really sounds sad. “Nothing maketh much thenthe.”

“You...” You try to trace back. “You wwanted to be pale wwith me?” There is something deep and vulnerable in your voice. Something that dares to hope.

Sollux won’t meet your gaze. After a few minutes you add something on, realising the confusion could be due to a misconception, “Matesprits aren’t pale.”

“ED, can we not do thith? I got the methage loud and clear, and it wouldn’t matter now anywayth,” he says. He finally looks at you, and, despite the lack of pupils, you can tell something is off in them, in their colour, in something. He reaches up and touches your face. It’s tender, and you flinch away when his hand twitches slightly. “I’m tho thorry.”

“I think wwe needa do this, Sol. I need you to tell me evverythin’. Wwhat you wwere thinkin’ and wwhat you said to evveryone else about me. Evverythin’,” you respond. “You owwe me that.”

“What differenthe doeth it make now? There wathn’t ever any blood, wath there? Tho why am I even here?”

“Sol...” you give out, and you’re frustrated. You feel like he’s trying to force you into telling him that you forgive him, that you care about him no matter what he does to you, but you don’t want to do that. You’re not ready to forgive him, and you don’t want this to be unhealthy. You’re anxious, and some part of you is clinging to the hope he wants you red, or pale, that he just wants you because of those positive emotions, and you two can go back to whatever you were before all of this happened or even something better.

“Yeth ED, ‘I wanted you pale’. Acthually, I don’t even know. Then it wath clear and red. I knew what I wanted, and I...” he closes his eyes. “I jutht remember thinking how obviouthly you wanted me the thame way. That of courthe you would. I wanted it offithal. I didn’t think it through. It’th not like you don’t treat me way more pale than red,” he says. “Do I have to go on? Are you not thatithfied?”

“Sol, wwe’ve both got this all wwrong,” you reply. You feel lifted again. You don’t feel scared or unsure or worth anything less. You’re so important, and Sollux is so important, and both of you can work this out. You feel so powerful, but you also feel slightly vindictive. “An' me not wwantin’ to be wwith you, wwhen you’vve nevver evven asked me about that, that’s enough to fuckin’ beat the shit outta me?”

“I’m thorry.” He really looks sorry too, wringing his hands in front of him, eyes downcast.

“So, you can’t just be my friend then?”

“No!” he says, and he looks up to your face then. “There wath jutht tho much anger, ED. My thoughth thlipped away. I can barely remember.”

“Wwell, fuckin’ remember!”

“I attacked you! I can’t,” you can tell he’s starting to get worked up again, and you know you should care and try to calm him down, but you don’t. “It wath fatht. I.. knocked you down. I hit you. KK pulled me off, and I tried to ethplain how you played me. I can’t. It wath all intent; I can’t remember what I thaid. I’m thorry, I didn’t feel real.”

“Sol, I knoww,” you say. You could only take so much of his desperate words and attempts at just doing what you were asking. “You didn’t kill me.” Yeah your face hurts, and maybe your head a bit, but that’s whatever.

“Fuck, Eridan, I wath pulled off you,” he says. He doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t say whether he could or couldn’t have.

“I killed Fef. And Kan. I blinded you and knocked you out and could’vve killed you,” you say. You’re falling from the pedestal you just put yourself on, and the guilt of that is now eating you away. You’ll never escape it, never.

“We were trying to kill you! Of courthe you did!” he exclaims, at that you feel like you’ve lost control of your actions too. You lean in and kiss him, hands in his hair pulling him towards you. He reciprocates groggily, and you remember the sopor, but he still does trip the endorphins with his tongue and moving lips. It’s different than when it was always supposed to be black, and you don’t think you really notice it in its gentleness, but more the fact the, or at least your, full intent is of nothing remotely linked to hatred. Sollux eventually pulls back, putting his hands up a bit, looking confused. You don’t know how to explain this. You don’t want this to have all the implications it does or lead to more confusion. You hadn’t been thinking; no one has ever defended you before--not really even yourself except when you were so high up in your own mind you could do anything. “Did you not hear what I thaid?”

“Ask Kar wwhat you said to him, if you can’t remember,” you say. He nods and complies on his mobile device. After a few minutes of awkward as hell waiting and Sollux reading, you hear him breathe a sigh of relief.

“Apparently, I wath incoherent. He thaid the real githt of it wath that you theemed pretty red for me with how dethperate you theemed around me. He thaid it didn’t make thenthe,” he says. You feel a weight off you chest.

“Wwhat did you mean?”

“Do you really needa hear that?” You glare at him. “I can’t really remember. Thomething about you theeming red for me when you... I mean you did thay, but I remember it being awful, being inthulting. Being a cauthe for anger and thomething to hurt.”

“I did fuckin’ say I lovve you. Messed us up pretty bad,” you admit. You think you can accept this, but you’re not sure what to do about the shocked look on Sollux’s face from you just saying that tidbit from the past.

“It wathn’t that,” he says, pauses. “Have I told you enough now?”

“Howw do you feel about me noww?” Now that you’re that you’re not crazy, now that you’re not shaking and trembling and attacking, is what you mean to say.

“What, need me to fluff your ego?” he says, and there’s anger in his voice again. It makes you angry in return.

“Just fuckin’ leavve then. I don’t needa deal wwith your shit.”

“Fuck you, ED,” he responds. You don’t actually motion for him to leave, but you don’t say anything. “I don’t know.”

“Wwhat do you mean, you don’t knoww?”

“You really need to hear it how it ith ED? Really got to hear me thay it?”

“Yes?” Communication is important?

“I would be in any quadrant with you. Black didn’t work out, and I gueth that’th all you wanted me in, but I want you in any of them. You happy? Now that you know how wanted you are? Fuck you.”

“Bein’ wwanted ain’t shit wwhen you get beaten dowwn for it,” you say, but the real meaning of what he says doesn’t quite register. You think that this should be some sort of shining moment, and yes you’re happy, but more than anything you’re faintly aware of how much this is just exactly what you’ve been yearning for this entire time.

“Did you like me pale? Before?”

“Wwhy are you all a sudden the one obsessed with quadrants,” you joke.

“You’re right, it doethn’t matter. You hate me--I get that. We’ve talked thingth through. Thould I go?”

“I don’t hate you,” you say, after a second of deciding whether or not to relish in the fact he cares and in his uncertainty after his actions towards you. “In fact, I’m kinda feelin’ the ‘all the quadrants’ thing wwith you too,” you admit. “That’s wwhy it all hurt so much.”

“I ruined everything,” he says, somewhat choked up. It’s heartbreaking.

“No, no,” you say. “Sol, wwe can still do that,” you reassure, and decide the best way to prove it to him is kissing the beginnings of his tears away. He’s not as responsive this time, when you turn to kissing his lips, so you pull back. He looks really upset.

“Then,” he says, and he sounds like there’s some anger in his voice, flaring up intensely; in fact, you can almost feel it in the electricity in the air, but it dissipates immediately when he says, “Why did you mock me?”

“I thought you wwere jokin’.” He pauses for a second before honestly laughing, even if it were slightly bitter.

“How do I find you tho thimultaneouthly pitiful and ridiculouth to the point of annoyanthe?”

“I’d be careful, that’s a lotta feelin’s Sol, it might take ovver the majority of the space in your pan that’s all fluff and dust.” He smiles at that, and you feel proud.

“Can we jutht thleep a bit longer? My thinkpan ith thtill all foggy, and I am tho tired.”

“Okay.”

You hadn’t slept yet anyways.


	16. Chapter 16

You wake up naturally, and Sollux is still asleep beside you. It’s rare to wake up with him still asleep. You decide you ought to wake him up, considering he’s probably slept for nearly twenty hours at this point.

“Sol, Sol,” you say, trying to wake him up. When you finally do, he blasts you back a bit with his psionics. 

“‘M tired,” he slurs, and you shake him a bit.

“You got enough sleep,” you say. He’s still unresponsive. “Look, I gavve you sopor; I wwanna make sure you’re still alight and all,” you say. 

“You what? Fucking tthum..”

“Stop right there. You wwere fuckin’ psycho and  _ manic _ , wwhat wwas I supposed to do?” he groggily sits up and looks at you.

“Are you calling me crazy becauthe I wath thleep deprived and violent? That’th fucking hypocritical of you,” he responds. “You’re a picture of peathe.”

“No, literally,” you say. This is frustrating, and maybe you’re wrong anyways. Bipolar disorder did say depression was a piece of it; not to mention, you don’t know how it would manifest in trolls.

“What? You think I’m crazy ‘cauthe I halluthinated thome fucking blood? You try having voithes in your head thcreaming and dying and not ending up theeing blood,” he says, and he makes it sound so realistic. 

“Okay,” you say. “So your excuse for attackin’ me is sleep deprivvation?”

“I don’t have an excuthe.” He looks at the growing bruises on your face. “It wath thitty.”

“Havve you evver heard of bipolar disorder?”

“ _ Bi _ -polar?” he stops. You got his attention.

“At least that’s the human name. Or manic-depression,” you say. “I think you’vve been manic. It wwould explain wwhy you’re here wwith  _ me _ .”

“Or becauthe I like you,” he says, which catches you off guard. You can’t look at him for a moment after that, and you bet your face is blooming purple.

“You wwere scared of slowwin’ dowwn? And things wwere fast and surreal? Those are manic symptoms. So is just doin’ shit like startin’ up a relationship wwith a vviolent highblood who blinded you,” you say, and even though that  _ technically _ wasn’t a symptom, you thought you grasped the other symptoms (like increased sex drive or doing high risk activities) to make that assumption.

“I think thith ith ludicrouth. Even if it were true, what good doeth it do?”

“I don’t knoww! But isn’t it nice to knoww wwhat the fuck is goin’ on wwith you?”

“What ith then? What ith going to happen to me? Am I going to go back to normal?” he sounds scared now, and you can tell his earlier complaints about being fine are bullshit.

“You might get depressed,” you say. “Or maybe go back to normal for a bit. You’ll evventually be manic again or depressed.”

“I don’t want to be deprethed,” he says. “Do you have thith, thing?”

“Wwhat?” 

“Your deprethion ith pretty glaring.” You screw your eyes shut. 

“Depression can be a thing wwithout it bein’ bipolar. I’vve nevver been manic like you havve.”

“Wwell, I’vve nevver been depressed like you havve, so I think this is probably jutht thomething to do with my athpect or my thionicth,” he replies.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’m not tryna force you into thinkin’ somethin’ Sol, I’m just concerned about you. And it says this gets wworse.”

“It doeth?” You nod. “ED, maybe we thouldn’t be together or anything. I think FF wath onto thomething.”

“Wwhat?” you freeze. “I’ll stop this, I swwear, Sol.” “I don’t knoww wwhat you mean.”

“Doeth it matter?” Sollux sounds in pain. How can he be breaking up with you when you aren’t  _ even in a quadrant with him _ . At least, officially. You two were pretty clearly pretty pale.

“Wwell, considerin’ misunderstandin’s havve been a bit of an issue I’d say so. So wwhat? Finally figure out I’m not all that noww that your mania’s faded?”

“FF broke up with me, Eridan. I wath ‘getting off the hook’ and thee couldn’t deal with me anymore.”

“So wwhy break up wwith me? Wwhat did she say about me?”

“Thelf-thentered much? Ever notithe I might not be good to be in a relathionthip with?”

“You think I am? I don’t care, Sol.”

“What? Becauthe you’re tho dethperate you’ll take anything?” He sighs. “I mean, I don’t want to be with you becauthe of your low thelf-ethteem.”

“Sol, are you fishin’ for compliments? ‘Cause I got them,” you respond, and you feel like this is all completely irrelevant considering he just took the time to try to soften a jab he made at you. That had to be progress in some shining way. 

“Whatever,” he says. He seems upset. He also seems way different, and you know he’s been complaining about a headache and being tired, but some part of you is wondering if his mania  _ has _ faded. You knew he was sensing it, or maybe it was the psychosis, or maybe it was the sopor. But you’re scared because you don’t believe he’d ever want you--that doesn’t make logical sense--and yet here he is. After being mostly out of his mind telling you he did. You know you mean nothing to him. “ED, why are you tho deprethed?”

“Wwhy are you manic?” Your response might not make sense, especially since, according to humans, bipolar is largely genetic and you’re thinking it’s something to do with his brain, but you don’t care. 

“Becauthe I’m a fucked up mutant.”

“Like you wwould care anywways.”

“ED, my head  _ acheth _ .” You knew it. You knew he couldn’t possibly give a shit about you. You still don’t know how to respond. He doesn’t say anything to your comment, and you guess you held out longer than you’d like to admit for him to tell you he did, but he doesn’t say anything, so you have to accept the reality you knew was true. You still have no idea why he would bring it up in the first place.

“Wwell, wwhat the fuck am I supposed to do about it?” He doesn’t respond to that verbally, but moves in closer to your face until you're an inch apart. You still adjusting to his openness staring into your eyes. He very slowly moves closer to you face until his lips are basically touching yours, but he doesn’t move closer, waiting. You suppose you appreciate the sentiment--you’ve gotten quite mad the last few times he’s tried to kiss you since you weren’t in any quadrant--but now that he at least  _ told _ you he wanted you, you were fine with being a smeared mess, so you close the distance and decide that the best fix to his sore head is your lips on his. 

So that’s what you do. You kiss till it doesn’t matter, because it doesn’t. It really doesn’t. He’s kissing you, and there’s no literal sparks. There’s no bitter energy or anger or  _ power  _ behind it. You absently wonder if this is what kissing him when he’s not manic is like, since you’re really starting to put those words to his state now that you have it, and you wonder if he’s okay with how this feels compared to when he’s crazed.

You pull back and decide to ask him, and something about the way that’s something you  _ can _ do, just pull back and ask him, shows your comfort levels, shows that you’re not insecure enough to truly believe he doesn’t care about you at all. But you’re not really convinced of the opposite.

“Is this still good, Sol?” you ask, quietly. He doesn’t say anything and instead kisses you again, and you vaguely remember how shocked you’d been originally at how talkative he was with you. Was that a sign of his mania? 

You guess it answers the question though, him travelling further down and kissing you neck. Then he moves his face back towards yours, and you catch him further in your kiss. Then he pulls back slightly, and moves his hand up to your faces. You feel him cradle your cheek, like you’re loved, and you’re faintly aware that maybe this is all a joke coming down on you, that he’s going to hit you or turn this into something black again, but you ignore that and bask in the adoration you feel him placing on you. He kisses you by your eye, and it’s tender. He whispers and apology. You say it’s okay, because it is, hell it’s not like you guys hadn’t fought before, but he just repeats his apology to which you don’t respond.

And then his hand travels back to your fin. You completely still, even your breath catches. You don’t know how to react, so you react defensively. Your eyes tighten. He pulls back.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” you warn. And he just nods and slips his hand back into your hair instead, pulling you into a deep kiss, you’re caught up in him so that you ignore the tenderness of your head. Apparently he doesn’t have the same idea, though.

“ED, you have a bump here,” he says. You shrug as best you can while lying beside him like this.

“That’s not surprisin’,”you say.

“What?”

“Howw many times havve you made me hit my head?” His face all crinkles up with guilt, and you realise maybe you should stop being so defensive of everything, that maybe he honestly cares like you do so the things you could say could hurt.

“‘M thorry,” he says for about the hundredth time. “My memory.”

He actually legit sounds upset, so you decide that kissing him is the best solution. Because you do forgive him. “Eridan, thith ith theriouth though. What if you’re concuthed?”

“So wwhat if I am?” He gives you a pointed look. 

“You thould probably take care of it. And make thure no crazy lowwbloodth throw you againtht wallth,” he replies. 

“Or the ground.” He smiles, but it’s more like a grimace. You decide now would be a great time to continue kissing him. He reciprocates for a bit, both shifting to hovering over you, lazily sucking your lip. It seems to take something out of him because he stops and rests his forehead down on your chest.

“That thopor you gave me...” he says, but doesn’t bother continuing the sentence. “I’m goin’ back to my respiteblock.”

“Okay,” you say, even though you hate it when he leaves especially right now since all you want to do is kiss him. 

“You thould talk to people. Thtop ignorin’ KK,” he says while he leaves. He waits at the door for a second before saying, “Thankth, ED,” and leaves you in what has grown to feel like a complete prison.

\---

You don’t want to be taken wrong; your relationship right now with Sollux was better than you could ever imagine it being. You still weren’t fully convinced this wasn’t some long drawn joke or his psychosis or  _ something _ happening, and you were pretty certain it wasn’t going to be long-lasting (he would leave you when he found out how shitty you really were or when his mood brought him back to actual  _ sanity _ ), but despite actually being  _ content _ with the situation, a hopelessness still surrounded you.

He is going to leave you. You are all going to die. Kanaya was right there, and you could still feel phantom pains around your middle and guilt pumping through your vascular system. Karkat probably hated you even  _ after _ you actually gained a chance to try to redeem yourself to him. He gave you a second chance, and you lost it. You were all trapped on this asteroid. You are losing muscle weight. The timeline is doomed, so none of the above matters in anyway since your life literally doesn’t matter.

You literally ruin everything. All of your relationships, all of your dreams. You ruined this timeline with your mere existence. There was nothing you could do to fix any of it. 

You already memorised the patterns on the ceiling and the words in your favourite Alternian history books. You are useless and bored, and you really hate yourself. In a way, you suppose this is good, this hatred that’s been so much stronger ebbing through you for the last few weeks. Usually, it did spiral from one to the other, so very unstable--yet you didn’t realise until you admitted it to Sollux--but now it is more stable. You hate yourself. You’ve ruined everything. (Maybe this isn’t completely true). (Maybe it’s all the universe’s fault, sometimes, and maybe you’re just a helpless victim).

You don’t know how you end up actually checking your Trollian, which you’d really avidly been ignoring besides the chat with Sollux. Maybe it’s because of Sollux’s request, maybe it’s because of your enduring boredom. You’re not sure, but you end up shocked.


	17. Chapter 17

You get twin messages from tentacleTherapist and ectoBiologist, both asking if you were okay. They’re simple and artificial and you _know_ they don’t really care, but you message them back anyways, _i am thanks for askin_.

The message you get that you’re the most shocked by is from Kanaya. Panic ebbs its way through your body when you respond to her simple question: _Is Sollux In Need Of An Auspistice._ You respond simply, as simply at you can, as least obstructive as you can, “ _no,_ ”.

You don’t know why she’s asking, why she would spend a second of her time anywhere near you besides to cut your body apart. You feel flickers of fire on your sides and a dizziness in your head. You hope your response doesn’t anger her, doesn’t take up any of her time in a way she doesn't want that time to be taken up in.

But then something hits you, and you find it _very_ important to add onto that, “ _wwe wwerent fated there but red or pale or somethin its a spectacle,_ ”.

When you open up your chat with Karkat, who for the last few days you have neither blocked nor ended any conversation with, just leaving it open because you haven’t cared _at all_ , you’re suddenly completely overwhelmed. There’s _pages_. You try to scan it, but there’s so many creative metaphors and anger in grey capslock.

CA: kar im sorry theres too much  
CA: i just wwanted to say thanks for helpin me the other night  
CA: it meant a lot  
CG: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?  
CG: YOU’RE NOT EVEN GOING TO SPEND THE TIME TO LOOK AT ALL THE FUCKING  
CG: YOU KNOW WHAT? AFTER ALL THE INCONCEIVABLE HORRENDOUS SHIT YOU’VE PULLED JUST IN THIS SMALL PORTION OF A DOOMED TIMELINE ALONE I WOULD BE A COMPLETE IMBECILE TO THINK FOR A SECOND YOU MIGHT ACTUALLY BE A DECENT TROLL  
CA: im sorry kar if you wwant me to try i can read through it  
CG: THE ONLY REASON I HAVEN’T GONE AND TWISTED YOUR TONGUE AROUND YOUR IGNORANCE STAFF TO END YOU FOR GOOD IS BECAUSE SOLLUX WON’T! FUCKING! SHUT UP ABOUT YOU!  
CA: wwhoa wwhat  
CG: HAHA IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY DON’T YOU READ ALL THOSE STUPID SYLLABLES  I POURED OUT TRYING TO TALK TO YOU BEFORE AGAIN AND AGAIN  
CA: i wwill and im sorry but i gotta ask kar did i ruin our friendship beyond repair  
CG: IT’S GOING TO TAKE A FUCKING MASTER OF SOME HUMAN ARTS TO FIX THIS  
CA: so no  
CG: WHY WOULD I TRY TO FIX IT THOUGH? WHAT’S IT WORTH WHEN WE ALL KNOW ERIDAN JUST GOES AND EITHER IGNORES OR KILLS HIS FRIENDS AND ACCORDING TO THE HUMANS THAT’S NOT EVEN NORMAL BY ANY STANDARDS BUT THAT FUCKED UP PLANET’S  
CA: i promise i didnt mean to ignore you i just couldnt do anythin i dont knoww wwhy i can right noww  
CG: THAT MAKES SENSE. WHY WOULD YOU EVER BE ABLE TO NOT LEAVE ME HANGING. I SHOULD BE COMPLETELY BLESSED BY YOUR MERE PRESENCE AND BOW DOWN BEFORE YOU, THE ROYAL HIGHBLOOD.  
CA: is that wwhat you wwant from me for me to lay dowwn prostrate and beg for your forgivveness cause i wwill kar  
CA: i literally dont care about anythin anymore besides sol and you not evven debasin myself like some rotten lowwblood  
CA: wwell kan and fef as wwell but like that means anythin  
CA: wwho cares about anythin  
CG: SOLLUX TOLD ME ABOUT THIS I GUESS IT’S TRUE THEN?  
CG: YOU’RE DEPRESSED? THE HUMANS TAKE THAT SERIOUSLY.  
CA: i guess but you knoww i had it comin  
CG: DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S WRONG WITH SOLLUX THEN? BECAUSE HE’S BEEN ONLY TALKING TO ME IN WEIRD CHUNKS REALLY QUICKLY AND THEN  
CG: WELL YOU WERE MORE THAN A BYSTANDER TO THAT.  
CA: i dont knoww but i havve a guess i guess  
CA: a hypothesis  
CG: WELL? YOU WANT ME TO GET MY PANTIES IN A KNOT OR ARE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?  
CA: id nevver heard of it before  
CA: but it seems to fit from the human symptoms its called bipolar disorder  
CG: IT SEEMS TO ME LIKE THE HUMAN’S FLESHY EXPOSED BRAINS JUST HAVE TOO MANY DISORDERS  
CA: yeah wwell it seems to fit sol him bein a troll and all  
CG: OKAY. THANKS, I GUESS?  
CG: ARE YOU OKAY DUDE?  
CA: wwhat  
CG: DRAIN THE WATER OUT OF YOUR BRAIN AND PUT IT TOGETHER. IS YOUR FACE OKAY?  
CA: it wwill be. sol and i are too  
CG: GOOD. HE WASN’T MAKING ANY SENSE WHEN I WAS TALKING TO HIM.  
CG: ALL I WAS ABLE TO GET WAS HE REALLY LIKED YOU FOR SOME UNFATHOMABLE REASON AND NOT BLACK EITHER LIKE MATESPRITS FOREVER BLEEDING HEART FEELINGS  
CG: HE SEEMED TO THINK YOU LIKED HIM BACK TOO. IS THAT TRUE?  
CG: OF COURSE HALF HIS SENTENCES WEREN’T EVEN COHERENT  
CA: yes  
CA: kar is that crazy  
CG: YES IT IS. HE JUST BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU IN FRONT OF HIS FRIENDS AND SEEMED TO HAVE NO QUALMS ABOUT IT OR CONTROLLING HIS ANGER  
CG: HE’S ALSO ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS AND I DON’T WANT HIM WITH SOMEONE SO SHITTY WHO NEARLY KILLED HIM ONCE  
CA: he did havve his qualms about it he wwas just messed up and its not like i dont knoww howw that goes you knoww  
CA: is it really silly to think that evven in this fucked up timeline wwhere wwere all destined to die sol and i wwere also destined to find each other  
CG: THAT’S KINDA NAUSEATING EVEN FOR ME, DUDE.  
CG: AND IT IS ALSO SILLY, BUT IT’S OKAY I GUESS  
CG: BETTER THAN PINING OVER FEFERI IN ANY CASE  
CA: she wwas alwways too good for me   
CG: AND SOLLUX ISN’T?  
CA: evveryone evver is but at least hes a pissblood psycho and my ex kismesis  
CG: EVERYONE EVER? ERIDAN THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU.  
CA: no i just dont think anyone kneww me before but thats okay wwho wwould wwant to  
CA: noww evveryone hates me besides maybe sol so wwho cares anywways  
CA: its not like i didnt earn that or anythin  
CG: I DON’T ACTUALLY HATE YOU  
CA: really  
CG: I’VE MISSED YOU  
CA: ivve missed you too kar  
CG: THAT’S REALL RICH YEAH SURE YOU MISSED ME SO MUCH YOU ACTUALLY RESPONDED TO ME AT LEAST ONCE WITH THE THOUSANDS OF MESSAGES I SENT YOU.  
CA: that doesnt mean i didnt miss you it just means im a jackass  
CG: THAT PART’S TRUE  
CA: wwill you forgivve me  
CG: WHY DON’T YOU GO ICE YOUR FACE FOR A WHILE AND THINK ABOUT HOW MUCH IT HURTS  
CA: can i take that as a yes

 

carcinoGeneticist [CG]  ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA] 

 

You barely get to breathe a second, let your conversation sink in, before you get another message from someone. It’s confusing to you. No one cared about you for so long and suddenly they do? Now that you don’t care anymore and feel it drain you try to keep up? There’d been months there with barely any communication with anyone, with you messaging people and their frustrating clear and crystalline. It took Sollux to shut you up. And by the time it actually seemed like a chore to respond, they all seem to care?

 

apocalypseArisen[AA] began trolling caligulasAquarium [CA] 

AA: are you ok?  
AA: is sollux?  
AA: im sorry if this is a weird thing to ask you but hes really worrying me!  
CA: wwere both fine and dandy is that all you wwanted  
AA: he isnt really and hes been cutting me out  
CA: i suppose thats a bad sign  
AA: yeah! i thought it was just something that i did but then karkat messaged me upset as well so  
AA: plus there was what you said to me so im guessing the issue lies deeper  
CA: wwell im thinkin bipolar you knoww go to the humans internet if you wwant to get help wwith a problem  
AA: haha yeah  
AA: they sure do have a wealth of information we didnt with our timeline being orchestrated and with tyrannical power and all  
AA: i will have to look into bipolar!

 

You bite your lip. Why is it that you’re always so jealous of someone literally at the bottom of the spectrum? (Maybe because that doesn’t fucking matter, and you’re all going to die in a place far from Alternia anyways). (Actually, she will probably outlive you since she’s god tier). (This isn’t helping you’re just more envious and feel less worthy now).

CA: so um  
CA: wwere you and sol like ever you knoww a thing like wwhat are you evven noww  
CA: wwoww just leave me hangin on somethin like that wwhen you knoww my nervves must be off the charts  
AA: sollux is very important to me and has been for a really long time  
AA: and while the constraint of time is meaningless the proportion of it that ive cared about him even including my time not alive is really high  
AA: did you decide you want to be in a different quadrant with him  
CA: yes i guess  
CA: i dont knoww  
AA: i dont know if we were ever really flushed i think his feelings were mixed up on it  
AA: tbh i dont think he does quadrants well  
CA: are you moirails then  
AA:  i think that’s not really important anymore  
AA: the humans have got the concept better  
AA: i feel the human emotion of friendship for him i would consider him my best friend in fact which i guess is pale but no he is not my moirail  
CA: isnt that like an issue then  
CA: if he wwere to get a moirail  
AA: i think maybe its silly to have pale feelings be monogamous and i would not mind unless the other troll or human did!  
AA: im guessing thats you eridan and honestly i dont know where you and him stand except he cares about you a lot  
AA: i do wish he would open up to me more but i think hes just scared  
AA: but that doesnt make me jealous of you or anything it just makes me want to know you too!  
CA: wwere you flushed for him though i guess im a little lost  
AA: i might have been a long time ago but its very trivial now  
AA: theres... someone else :)  
AA: i think you should stop worrying about this!  
AA: and i am going to look at bipolar  
CA: wwait but aradia  
AA: yes?  
CA: shouldnt you hate me?  
AA: why? i barely know you  
CA: wwhat about the things that sol has said  
CA: especially like blood class stuff  
AA: sollux has said so many good and bad things about you  
AA: its not like you have looked down on me at all through this conversation!  
AA: maybe its time for you to stop trying to see the worst in peoples intentions towards you  
CA: i dont think you get wwhat ivve done  
AA: feferi has made not knowing what you did pretty impossible  
AA: and i know and i still think you need to stop worrying so much  
AA: i see a lot and a lot of this does not matter anymore  
CA: wwhether or not you secretly loathe me is pretty fuckin important  
CA: howw do i knoww wwhether to trust you or not  
AA: you can  
CA: ok wwhatevver

caligulasAquarium [CA]  ceased trolling  apocalypseArisen[AA]

You’re exhausted from the conversations, everything twisting about in your mind. Everything’s changed so much, and you don’t know how to take it in because the ceiling is the same, and you still hate yourself.

But for some reason you feel a bit of _hope_.

You decide to see what the humans have to say on treating depression.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet you'd seen the last of me
> 
> it's not abandoned i promise. i have no excuses. i wrote this three years ago. pardon my bad writing but this fic is gonna be finished and published someday and im sure of it.


	18. Chapter 18

There are things you note: your change in attire (Sollux really had gotten in your head about that), your weight loss, your anxieties. You also guess your negative thoughts have spiked, but they were always pretty intense. 

The number one thing the humans seem to say about treating depression seems to be exercise, which you’ve been sorely lacking on the meteor compared to LARPing or even in the game. You spend a half hour doing exercises but find it boring, meaningless, and tiring, so you stop. You’ll only subject yourself to that once a day. 

Now you’re going to go work on your relationships. You are just going to wait until Karkat messages you again, as he’s rather intimidating and you are very scared you will screw that up, but you decide that you  _ will not _ ignore him again.

Now you are just going to go find Sollux. 

You navigate to his respiteblock with a tepid confidence. He told you he wanted you. He told you he wanted you in any of his quadrants, that it didn’t matter, that it was a mess,  _ and it is _ . There are weird pieces missing and empty all over you; you’re made out of blocks and boxes. And while he’s great at making you feel inadequate, cold, empty, being around him makes you forget about the slots in your chest, in your head, that are messed up. 

You did give a full day before and messaged him hello, so you decide it’s alright to knock on his door. It opens, and you see Sollux lying on the ground balancing objects in the air, watching them spiral around each other before the crash, and fall. A rock hits his chest, and he flinches, turning to look at you.

‘Sol, it’s awfully dark in here,” you say, trying to make conversation. You don’t mention how horribly cramped it is, how messy it is with wrappers and clothes lying about. His computer is on, and Sollux psychically presses a button, making the screen start flashing red and blue.

“What do you want,” he asks gruffly. He seems closed off. You ignore how your chest tightens, how you’re so sure he was just with you because he was manic, how the thought of him losing interest in you deflates you, like letting air out of balloon. Maybe that wasn’t healthy. You definitely let too much ride on him when you never expected anything besides pain from him.

“Just wwanted to check up, I guess,” you reply dejectedly. 

“You’ve never done that before. What’th really going on?” he challenges. He sounds weak, unmoving, staring at the ceiling.

“Is the flashin’ just for dramatic effect?” you ask instead. You see him shrug. He doesn’t say anything else. “So, depression?”

“Thlowing down,” he responds. 

“Do you wwant me to leavve?” You feel irritation and fear spark your tone.

“No.”

“Do you wwant me to come closer?”

“Yeah.” You walk over and lay down beside him. He stops the incessant flashing from the monitor. “Tho, you feel guilty about drugging me?”

“No!” you say affronted. “You wwere out of it.”

“Why are you here?”

“I thought wwe wwere, wwe wwere like... somethin’.”

“You never came here when we were kithmetheth.”

“Didn’t wwant it to seem like I wwanted to be around you or anythin’.” He laughs, and it’s shallow, but you feel your chest swell. “I wwant to be your moirail.” 

You feel like everything goes very still. Sollux stops moving, stops fidgetting and nearly stops breathing. 

“Ecth... only?” he responds. You feel his hand find yours. His room is cold and you are cold, but he is fire.

“I don’t care,” you say. You’re lying, though. You do care, but it just doesn’t matter compared to this. You want to continue to tell him everything, to help and care for him and fall asleep in his company. You want that to  _ matter _ , for you to matter, to him. 

“I wath rereading our methages. You were right. That wath harrathment.”

“I’vve sent wworse to you and to Vvris,” you respond. 

“You were crying,” he states, as if that makes it clear that this was much worse than anything else. You’re humiliated and touched. 

“You’re avvoidin’ the subject.”

“I talked to FF,” he says it so quietly, as if this were some deep dark confession. 

“So?”

“I told her thee thould forgive you,” he pauses. You’re overwhelmed and unsure how to react. “Conthidering the circumthancthes.”

“Wwhat did she say?” you ask quickly and quietly, nervously.

“‘We’ll  _ thea _ ,’” he replies. He grips your hand harder. You can barely breathe. “AA ith kind of my moirail.” You take a sharp breath. She gave you false hope, then, because you’d expected this before. 

So she rejected Sollux, outright.

“I thought you said you wwanted to be...”

“I wathn’t thinking about her,” he says. “Nothing like would croth my mind.” The room is comfortable for you, temperature wise, and you see him shiver. You wish your body had heat. In some weird way, you guess you had a quality of a lowblood. 

Why are you even trying to comfort him anyways?

“You mean you wweren’t thinkin’ about actually having to be  _ Eridan’s  _ moirail,” you say. You bite your tongue. Your fang catches are you taste blood. Every fibre in your body is rotten and sustained sadness. You are nothing but discontent, and you can’t stand it.

“That’th definitely what I meant,” Sollux replies, and you hear sarcasm in his voice, but somehow you still feel like he’s being truthful. You feel him turn to face you, so you turn in turn. “You’re more inthecure than I thought.” He’s meeting your eyes. Voluntarily, he’s not wearing his glasses. He looks fragile.

“You’re crazier than I thought,” you say indignantly. 

“Ditto,” he responds immediately. He starts to snicker, and it lights up his face. You join in, not sure what at, besides the fact you’re happy to be  _ here _ , in his dirty, cramped block, and you’re happy he’s laughing and his laugh sounds real and normal and not  _ manic _ . “I’m not really her moirail. I’ll talk to her.”

“I already did,” you admit. “She talked about like the constraints a time and balderdash before sayin’ she doesn’t think pale romance should be monogamous.”

“I feel like it thould if it’th for  _ her _ ,” he says, and you really realise that the two of you aren’t going to work in the quadrant. You don’t know why, but it’s crushing. “Matethprit?” He asks rather hesitantly, and you wish you could put all the insecurity he’s displaying out of his head, but you honestly don’t know how to react right now to this. You’re being ridiculous; you’ve wanted so badly to be his matesprit essentially since you started being black with him, but somehow you’re still  _ hesitant _ too. You want to be in a concupiscent quadrant with him, so you don’t understand why you’re unnecessarily complicating things. “ED?” Sollux prompts, his voice nervous. You can’t get out of your head him talking to you every night, him admitting he’d want to be pale, or anything, with you. 

You mean to say, “ _ Yes, that makes the most sense anywways, _ ” but you fumble.

“I liked you better wwhen you wwere manic,” you say. You sit up and turn away before you can see the look on his face.

“‘Cauthe it’th totally not you jutht dethtroying my thtate of mind with your vocabulary and plathebo-ing effects.”

“I’m sorry,” you say. “Not for that, that’s ludicrous, and honestly Sol, expect better.” 

“It’th alright. I’m uthed to you being mean when you don’t get your way,” Sollux says. 

“Excuse me?” You rack your brain and cannot find  _ one instance _ . “I wwould like to make it knowwn I’m gracious in all senses of defeat.”

“Thure. Ith thith really defeat?”

“If you don’t wwant to be moirail, that’s fine,” you breathe deeply and feel him squeeze your head again. You love him.

“I do.”

“Wwell then  _ do it _ ,” you challenge, suddenly explosive. You sit up. He still looks very tired. “Aradia  _ doesn’t care _ . She’s just upset that you’re cuttin’ her out.”

“Like you haven’t been cutting people out.”

“You told me evveryone couldn’t stand me! That no one wwanted to be around me!” you shove angrily off the ground to start pacing. Sollux doesn’t respond for a moment. He looks uncomfortable.

“Well, you know why I thaid that. You thaid worthe to me.”

“Yes, but I didn’t  _ mean _ it. I was just  _ reactin’ _ ,” you manage to stop pacing and sit down by him, tapping your foot with restless energy.

“Okay, whatever, ED. You’re the one who came here thith time. Jutht leave me the fuck alone.”

“I wwill if you wwant me too.”

“Of courthe I don’t! But I don’t have the  _ energy  _ for thith, for feeling guilty or defending mythelf. I jutht want to thleep.”

“I wwant to fix and sort evverythin’ out.”

“Like that could happen all at onthe.” He snorts, as if you’re ridiculous. As if the idea of wanting to fix things, to make sense of the only real relationship in your life right now is  _ wrong _ , as if you’re still wrong. You’re too tense.

“I wwant to get better!” you give out, perhaps a little too loudly. Sollux looks shocked for a moment before sitting up for the first time. He comes closer to you and rests his weight on your thighs. He looks at your lips and back to you.

“Can...” 

“Yeah,” you respond, and he kisses you, and you don’t really care. He kisses you tiredly, like he is, and honestly you can even feel grease on the back of his neck when cradle the back of his head. He kisses you, and he’s sober now, and he’s not your kismesis, and it’s wonderful. You’re not afraid, which might’ve made your blood pump not quite as fast if you weren’t so  _ nervous _ because it’s still remarkably exhilarating. It feels like he’s kissing you with affection.

Sollux pulls back momentarily.

“Moirrateth?” he asks, and you’re so distracted you don’t really make sense of it.

“Wwhat?”

“Like, both red quandrantth, if you don’t mind AA being thtill there and important to me,” he says, hesitantly. You don’t know what to say.  _ Maybe, yes, definitely? _ “I’m jutht... trying to thort thingth out?”

“Yes, yes of course, Sol. You’re my moirrate. Hey, no s’s in that either,” you joke. He looks a little uncomfortable. 

“Yeah, that’th nithe. It’th okay though? To thwitch from black to pale?”

“Who cares? Let’s do it.” 

“Do you... want to thort through anything elthe?”

“Sometime. But you said you just wwanted to sleep. Come back to my block? It’s far superior with a human bed and better heatin’ if you’re a ridiculous yelloww-blood with remarkably loww cold tolerance,” you said. 

“Kithing you ith like kithing and ithe cube.”

“Sorry we can’t all thrive in cold wwaters.”

“Yeah, though. Thith plathe thtinks, literally,” Sollux replies. He smiles at you, but it’s weak. You’re pretty sure that’s because of him, though, not you.

You hold hand walking back to your block.

You and Sollux are  _ together _ . You’re in  _ both the red quadrants _ .

It doesn’t sink in the same way as who Sollux is doesn’t sink in or the fact he gives a damn about you, for some unfathomable reason.

He tells you that you gotta sleep in your scarf, so you put it back on, and it feels like an old friend, like comfort.


	19. Chapter 19

When you wake, Sollux is still sleeping. That’s disconcerting. Yet, however disconcerting it may be, you find yourself full of comfort with his less-conscious level of awareness beside you. 

You could’ve never predicted this. You might’ve been able to predict how much you  _ wanted _ this, if you got past all the confusion and loathing to navigate towards where you ought to be. But  _ nothing  _ could have convinced you that Sollux Captor would want to be your moirail and matesprit. That he’d be beside you, caring about you in this red way that fills you up with so much love.

You love him so much. 

He doesn’t stir much for another hour, and you just sorta stare at him. You’ve gotten quite good at staring things to pass time. The ceiling, the walls, a blank husktop. He’s much more interesting with the way he breathes and is alive and is  _ Sollux _ .

“ED, that’th creepy,” he says, opening his eyes to meet yours. You look away, darting your eyes to something, but unsure of what was safe. He sits up, and you feel him touch your hand. You draw you gaze back to him. “You know how you thaid you wanted to thort thingth out?”

“Of course,” you say. You skin itches. You also said you wanted to get better. You also admitted you were sick.

“You could be right about that... thing.”

“Wwhat thing?”

“My mutated, fucked-up think pan.”

“Good to knoww,” you say, but he looks skittish.

“And I don’t think you’ll make me happy,” he admits, and your stomach drops. This was too good to be true, you knew that. This was always going to crash down.

“I can try,” you say weakly.

“And if you fail?” he asks, not quite meeting your eye.

“I mean, then I guess I’ll hope someone else wwill...” you say. Your voice is weak, shaky. You fight back the urge to say something  _ really  _ bitter like, “ _ like Fef _ ”.

“That’th not what I mean!” he gives out, laying back down and entering your preferred position of staring at the ceiling. 

“Wwhat do you mean then?” You dare yourself to hope. You’re maturing somewhat, learning jumping to conclusions all the time has just hurt you more than necessary.

“What if I don’t want to be around you or.. kith you or talk to you? ‘Cauthe I barely do now.”

“Then don’t. You don’t need to break up wwith me ovver that,” you say. You’re scared. You don’t want to fight for him to stay. You have a sick feeling you would fail.

“What if it getth fatht again? What if I hurt you or thcare you?”

“You’re bein’ a fool.”

“Thure, none of my conthernth are legitimate. My pan ithn’t a problem at all.”

“I just mean...” You try to think of how to put this to make him really get what you mean. “I just me that I’ll  _ be _ there. That you don’t havve ta wworry about scarin’ me awway.” You watch him take what you’re saying in. He returns his gaze to yours.

“Can I kith....”

“You can wwhenevver you wwant.”

And he does. 

You return, feeling his darting tongue, his hands in your hair. He pushes you down against the bed, still languidly kissing you, tired yet deep. You note how careful he is to avoid your fins. You realise something.

“Sol,” you moan up, and he kisses you again instead of responding. “Sol,” you repeat. He pulls back a bit. 

“Yeah?”

“You can touch my fins,” you say, embarrassed, but too tired of longing for it or dancing around the subject.. 

“Really?” He looks  _ excited _ . Your smile grows. He makes you so happy.

“Just be...” you want to say gentle, but the word doesn’t come out.  _ Don’t pretend to be soft then hurt me. Don’t mock me _ .

He looks like he gets it. And this time you really do trust him to get it. 

He feathers his hands at the edge of your face, where your fins attach. You don’t really feel much. Your nerves are running pretty wild, though. He starts kissing you again, his hand gently running over your fins as if it were your hair, but softer.

It turns you on more than you’d like to admit. Frustrated at the lack of sensitive skin available for you to touch on Sollux, you move your hands to the bottom edges of his shirt, inviting him to invite you to take it off. You’re suddenly aware that you might be moving too fast for him, that he’s not facing the same stimulation that you are, but he temporarily removes his hands from your face and takes a break from meeting his mouth to your to lift up his shirt. He looks self conscious, and when he goes for the edges of your shirt, you feel the shyness same in return. You guess you both haven’t gotten this far that much. You sit up to take off your shirt too to reveal your chest with your set of gills. You’re scared of what he thinks of that. You know that being a highbood to him doesn’t mean anything, and it occurs to you that you probably just look weird and mutated compared to him.

It’s a little shocking to you, your level of self-consciousness. It makes sense--you’re terrified of his sudden rejection since you want this  _ so badly _ \--but it doesn’t stop the fact it’s there, and real. 

You get so caught up in your head that you fail to notice Sollux just sort looking at your gills in, what you can’t read properly, either disgust or awe. As bad as it may sound, it makes you feel moderately better that he actually  _ is  _ mutated, evident in his dual nipples. You break his stare by bringing your mouth down on one of double nipples, tracing your tongue, your fingers stimulating the other. He gasps out and wraps his hand in your hair, his right hand tighter on your fin. He lets go immediately, apologising, but he didn’t hurt you. You decide telling him that’s not as necessary as trying to make him  _ forget _ . You swirl your tongue before trailing your mouth up to his neck and sucking, but not hard enough to leave marks. 

He eventually returns his hands back to your fins, tentatively, carefully, he runs his fingers across them more and more. He sits up sit over you again, connecting back at the lips when you settle. You spend what feels like forever like that, kissing, him touching your fins and you touching his chest. You’re practically writhing, your body focused. You’re still holding back what would probably be practically whimpers, and you’ve never felt this much trust in your life. 

Sollux moves to kissing your neck, which he indulges in, while you run your arms down his sides. He stops after a moment and asks if he could kiss you gills.

You’re sure you’re blushing at that, but you agree, trying to not look as undone as you are for some sake of embarrassment. 

He makes soft kisses across the sensitive membranes, and it doesn’t turn you on as much as it makes you shiver. It’s quite pleasant and exhilarating. You can’t help but think of his fangs and how close they could be to tearing into such a vital part of your body. 

He then puts his hands on the edges of your tight jeans and looks across to you, asking permission. You’re unsure, and he notices. 

“Could I?” you ask instead, sitting up. Your words come out breathless, maybe even shaky, and you gesture towards him.

“Could you...” he looks unsure now too. You’ve never sucked anyone off before, and you’re not sure if you’d even be good at it, but you’re remembering that fucking  _ bucket _ , that one that exists, the one that he had used against you in some sick sort of power play.

You really didn’t want this to end up being that.

“Eridan,” Sollux says, and you’re somewhat coming down from your high off those endorphins as he looks at you like that, his proximity not quite as close. “I don’t want that.”

“Wwhy not?” you ask quickly. You’re scared. 

“Doeth that matter?”

“I think so,” you say. You’re trying to be smart about this. It’s too big for you to be dumb and ruin everything. And you’re good at being dumb and ruining big things. “‘Cause last time things wwent bad after.. That...” You don’t mention the white hot embarrassment that still made you feel like shit every time you thought about it. On top of all of those dynamics, you just  _ had  _ to have a love confession.

“It won’t if you jutht don’t  _ care _ ,” Sollux says, beginning to sound agitated. “I bet I can thtill make you feel awethome,” he adds cockily, and as if to prove his point, you feel waves of something over your bulge, and you screw your eyes shut. 

“ _ Sol... _ ” you give out, thoroughly annoyed, even if you really don’t want him to stop. He does, though. 

“I don’t  _ get  _ it,” he gives out. “Ithn’t that the fun part anywayth?”

“I think it’s kinda all a fun part,” you say. “I just don’t understand.”

“Can’t you jutht like... trutht me then?” he asks. You feel a very gentle wave of wind brush across your fins. 

“It’s notta powwer trip or anythin’ right?” you ask. “It wwouldn’t go horribly?”

“Who do you think I am?” Sollux asks, offended. “A power trip? What, am I altho goading people into thuithide?” he pauses, before he adds shakily, “Killing them with my thionicth.” 

“Wwell, last time...”

“It wath the thame thing latht time,” Sollux admits. And he’s sitting there, so vulnerable with his shirt off and his quite admissions. You’re desperate to know now, but determined to let him drop it. 

“Okay, wwell I wwon’t push you,” you say. “Whoevver you think I am.”

“Everything jutht thuckth I thuck at  _ everything _ .”

“You aren’t so bad at kissin’” you say sheepily. He gives you a desperate, pained look before he kisses you again. He relaxes by degrees after he does so. 

“Neither are you,” he admits when you kiss his neck. 

You’re so absorbed in all of it, it barely registers to you that it’s all real. That you find  _ him _ , of all people, so  _ dearly _ precious, that he’s treating you the same way. It doesn’t really make sense. You’re lost in all of it, but mostly you’re lost in the chemicals in your mind and how you just want to keep kissing him.

Sollux goes towards the edges of your pants again, and you shiver at it.

“It’s definitely not to mess with me,” you try to confirm. He looks hurt by that, but responds nonetheless.

“Of courthe not, I’m not quite  _ that  _ horrendouth,” he says. Your breath hitches as he tries to pull down your pants. It’s not quite successful, and you shimmy out of them. He uses his psionics at first, teasing you, snickering up. You spend the entire time revelling and stifling any unwanted sounds, nervous. You’re horribly embarrassed by the whole ordeal, even with the two of you not being kismeses. You feel even more pressure.

It’s kinda impossible when your bulge is his mouth, though. His psionics have a hold of your fins, and all your brain is lit up with the sensations. It’s overwhelming in every sense. Luckily, you’re able to hold back any love confessions.

(But, weirdly enough, this time you know you love him. You love him you love him you love him. It’s clear. So clear. So very clear in a way it just wasn’t before).

You pull back when you’re ready to come, with a bucket towards the front of your sylladex for use this time. Sollux pulls back when you egg him to this time, but keeps a hold of your bulge with his psionics, and it’s horribly intense when you come. All you can think is  _ wow _ , _ love _ , and  _ wow. _

Despite how drained you feel afterwards, you still want reciprocate for Sollux. You want to fill a pail with him, however unnecessary that is in the current timeline. 

“You... sure?” you ask tentatively. “I could...” you motioned towards his bulge, and he snickered. 

“Not today,” he responds, but he forces a smile at you, and it makes you feel a lot better. He leans into kiss you, and you’re the one responding more lazily now. You’re exhausted and so content in a way you rarely are. You love him.

“So, from kismeses to moirrates,” you say, lying down facing him.

“Yeah, we’ll be in one of KK’th movieth that’th about ridiculouth idiotth making bad dethitions,” he says, and he kisses your cheek innocently. You feel flushed. 

“I have to say, Sol, I like this a lot better,” you admit. You’ve never felt safer in your life. Honestly, you’ve probably never really been happier.

“Yeah, me too,” he replies. You smile intensely at that. You’re not really able to comprehend where you’re at because it’s so surreal, but you sure are glad that it’s happening.

And you never want to fall out of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 413 everyone!!!


	20. Chapter 20

Karkat told the royal blooded human one (Rose) about the fact that you thought Sollux had the human “bipolar” disorder, so she started messaging you. Incessantly. Mostly it was tidbits about bipolar disorder, but she also seemed so concerned for him, for _you_. You mostly don’t know how to respond. Despite the fact you learnt this from some pathetic lack-of-self-esteem paradyme, you really think you have... matured. You look back at your old conversations with Rose, to try to get a sense of how the two of you communicated, and honestly, you’re embarrassed.

But it leaves you at a sort of impasse of what to do now. You somewhat _want_ to go back to your old self because you don’t know who you’re supposed to be now. You feel like you’re nothing, floating, lost. Mostly you just say “interestin” at everything she says to you, hoping that’s somehow enough.

She tells you about how there are different types of bipolar, but from what she’s heard, the one Sollux seems to fit the most is bipolar 1, possibly rapid cycling if he was only like that a couple of weeks. She says that the more she researches it, the more it seems like the only way to really control bipolar _is_ medication, but regulating sleep is crucial. You want to laugh at that one; you don’t think Sollux has ever slept well in his life.

You wonder why she’s telling _you_ all of this instead of Sollux. Why would she trust you to relay this to him? Why would she trust you at all? You know Karkat’s probably not shut up about how idiotic you and Sollux’s relationship is, so she probably knows that the two of you are together, but it still doesn’t make sense. Why would _anyone_ ** _ever_** trust you?

You try to make sure Sollux gets all the information, but he mostly just lays in your bed staring at the ceiling like you did for so long, occasionally looking at his Trollian and occasionally asking you to make out with him. He sleeps like you’ve never seen him sleep before, and you swear you’ve even heard him crying when you were in another room, waiting at the door. He mostly just seems dead inside whenever you see him, like that destructive, almost deadly energy burnt him out.

Sometimes he tries to pick fights with you about how idiotic you are for staying by him, letting him be here. Your responses are usually about how it’s a good thing the two of you weren’t still kismeses, because he would suck as one. You don’t really know what else to say to that. You _know_ where he is coming from, you feel the feeling mutually, but blatant denial of his fears is tricky off your tongue, and you don’t quite know how to help him.

You’re both quite hopeless.

You’re getting scared, sometimes, the way he talks. You see the same meaninglessness attacking him that you’re so familiar with. When he complains about how life isn’t even worth it without his psionics, which have been gradually decreasing in power, that it should just end, you get even more desperate. Rose had talked about medications on several occasions, bringing up how she wished she had access to them, that she had some anti-depressants saved, but nothing that could help him. You decide to broach the subject again.

caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT] 

CA: im a master at alchemy like not kiddin   
TT: ?  
CA: a MASTER  
TT: I’m guessing you’re referring to something about Sollux and his bipolar?  
CA: uh  
CA: that might be correct  
CA: wwhat wwere the medications again  
TT: There are a lot of ones on Earth that we don’t have access to.  
TT: Apparently antipsychotics can mood stabilize, as well as anticonvulsants, but the most known way is by a drug called Lithium.  
CA: i havve heard of that  
CA: not as some treatment because on alternia you just get culled  
TT: It is a naturally occurring substance. I’m sure there’s some on Jade’s planets.  
CA: her WWHAT  
TT: Of course, it’s not like he could just take some form of it he found, but if there were a way to treat his condition via medication, it would have to be Lithium considering the complexity of the alternatives.  
CA: like usin alchemy  
TT: We haven’t done anything like that before, so I have no idea the potential risks, but I could envision it being possible.  
CA: could it help him be less sad  
TT: I did read that Lithium is one of the few bipolar treatments to also have an effect on the depressive side of the disorder.  
CA: wwe should try to do that  
TT: It’s touching how much you care about him. Kanaya’s even more shocked than I am.  
CA: kan  
CA: howw is she  
CA: should i like fear for my life or anythin  
TT: Honestly, she doesn’t really ever mention you.  
CA: is she doin wwell  
TT: Being trapped on an asteroid hurtling through space isn’t the best for anyone’s psyche, but yes, I think she is, in most aspects, doing “wwell”.  
CA: thats good  
TT: And what about you?  
CA: wwhat do you mean  
TT: Are you well?  
CA: if i comment on howw you are clearly provin me wwrong on howw fuckin fated wwe wwere wwill you bloww up my husktop  
TT: ...  
TT: Does that happen to you a lot?  
CA: ...  
CA: maybe  
CA: anywways...  
CA: lets wwork on that lithium thing  
TT: Has anyone else ever tried to create a drug using this form of alchemy before?  
CA: i dont knoww i mean ivve made things kinda similar  
TT: It sounds like it could be hazardous.  
CA: its gotta be better than sopor  
TT: What?  
CA: nothin  
CA: bye

caligulasAquarium [CA] ceased trolling  tentacleTherapist [TT]

You don’t tell Sollux about the lithium idea, but you try to get him to hang out with Karkat and Aradia at least. Aradia’s been in some contact with you too because apparently Sollux doesn’t ever act like there’s anything wrong with her, but she’s glad that he’s been talking to her more. Honestly, you’re even kind of glad. Aradia and you have been talking more and more, just about things not even always Sollux, and you’re beginning to see what he sees in her. She’s a good troll, a good friend (if you ever would get to consider her that). Somehow, it lessons your jealousy.

It’s after talking to her with Sollux sleeping through most of the night (again) that he turns to you and a slight gush of wind hits your head. You know that’s probably the most psionics he could muster. You’ve been very careful not to mock how you could finally beat him in a fight without any weapons, but you’ve been aching to.

“ED,” he complains. You turn to him. You’re kinda hoping he wants to kiss you some because it’s quickly become (or more like remained) your favourite activity. He still talks to you, hours on end, but his points don’t make sense sometimes, and it’s often like you’re trying to make letters out of the clouds.

“Wwhat?” you ask, smiling at him. He really does make you a lot happier, even if you can’t do the same for him.

“Why don’t you jutht cull me already,” he says darkly. It really troubles you. Usually, he keeps that sort of talk to a minimum.

“You’re gonna feel better again,” you say. You try to remind him of this a lot, and usually he doesn’t say much to it.

“And lothe my thit again,” he replies this time. Maybe he has been paying attention to what you’ve been telling him. Whenever you bring up bipolar to him, it’s kinda like talking to a wall.

“It’s okay,” you say lamely. You think back to the oral pain reliever you made a while back with the alchemiter. Couldn’t you mix that with some lithium in it’s not consumable form?

“If we were on Alternia, I would already have been culled,” he says. He’s looking right at you now, the force of his attention somehow still as strong as ever. “You’d thupport that, right?”

You’re immediately taken aback. How dare he say that! You get that his pan’s all messed up right now, but how could he say that?

“Wwhat?!”

“You thupported all that thit with the blood and the empire...” Doesn’t he know you better than this by now? You don’t know how to retort.

“Sol, are you serious?” He scoffs.

“I thould go,” he says. He makes the very slightest effort to stand up before lying back on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. You decide to go lay down beside him.

“I don’t knoww howw to defend myself to that,” you say honestly. Honesty and openness are the only things you know how to be with him. They’re the only techniques that have been working. And they really do.

“I know,” he says. “I wath trying to prove a point.”

“That wwhat? Evverythin’ I wwas wwas bad?”

“That my life ith utheleth.” Wow. You think that’s even worse. You grab his hand and kiss it. He smiles warmly at the gesture.

“Then I think _you’re_ supportin’ the empress too much,” you say. “Not me.” He shrugs.

“I really don’t have any hope,” he says. Now, there’s a feeling you can relate to.

“This univverse is literally doomed because I’m still alivve wwhen I should’vve died of lackin’ hope,” you say. You don’t dwell on that much (actually you do, that’s a lie (you do a lot)), but it’s worth noting.

“And you have it now?” he asks. You think for a second, and you take in the feeling of lying beside him, of connecting with people, of the fact you’re _alive_.

“I havve some,” you say, and you smile.

“Why?” he asks.

“I think,” you say, and you’re not really quite aware of it until you really say it. “That, for me, it was a matter of not being so _alone_.”

“You were tho bad at it though, at trying to connect with people. Like, horrendouth,” he says, and he genuinely laughs. You smile too. “That’th why you came on tho fucking thtrong,” he adds. A statement, not a question.

“Yeah,” you answer anyways.

“It retrothpect, it’th eathy to thee you jutht wanted love,” he says. Usually, he’s shit at talking about feelings this openly, even with you, so you’re rapt. “Glad you got it.” You feel a little overwhelmed. Did he just kind of admit he loves you?

“Bein’ the prince of hope I also get to decide there’s hope for you,” you say.

“Being the mage of doom allowth me to know I’m doomed,” he replies. “We all are.”

“Not thure about that one, the first” you reply. He smiles, and honestly, maybe that’s enough for now. Small distractions. He was only manic for a couple of weeks, so surely he won’t be depressed for so long either. “At least wwe’re not on Alternia.”

“Ehh,” he replies. You sadly know what he’s referring to. “ED, can you convinthe AA that I’m alright?”

“That’s not true.” Before he can reply, you both get a message. It’s from Karkat, saying to back him up when Vriska tries to argue a new plan. He take it as an excuse to not back himself up properly.

“Pleathe.”

“No, I don’t wwanna lie to her,” you say. You don’t say it’s because you want to be her friend.

“Fine,” he says, obviously disgruntled. He still is amenable to kissing you, however.

You both do that for a while, and it’s so hard for you to worry about disorders or empty, black spaces or big bads when you’re tripping over the chemicals in your brain. The way he smiles up to you lets you know, quite clearly, that there’s at least something in this world for him that holds promise. That holds hope.


	21. Chapter 21

The next few weeks pass pretty much the same. Sollux doesn’t do much besides sleep in your bed and occasionally look at coding videos to insult them (while not actually doing any coding himself). He definitely seems to enjoy making out with you but hasn’t gone any further than that. He seems the most connected when he’s kissing you, like he’s not so depressed or something, but even then sometimes he just doesn’t seem to have the energy for even that.

You are definitely the most connected when you’re kissing him because nothing else matters and the world around you smurs like lines on an expressionist painting with time and reality moving and rushing. It’s more still when his energy is lower, when he holds your hand it’s more both realistic and abstract conjoined in your mind. It’s so real, but you couldn’t represent it that way. So motionless and quiet even when your mouths are moving and you’re two breathing beings beside each other. You wish you were more than a spectator sometimes, wish you could paint it to make it more real instead of put it in your mind as pictures you’ve looked at on the human internet. It strikes you the depth of human emotion without violence sometimes. Somehow, the colours always seem like blood to you, red or not, even when they’re humans. 

You try to help him not isolate himself, which he’s doing probably even better than you did. You don’t know why you both have exemptions for each other when it comes to isolation, but you half wonder if the only reason he doesn’t isolate himself from you is because he likes your respiteblock better than his own. You guess that would be a more likely reason than your presence.

The thing that really...  _ hurts _ is the fact that people  _ care _ . You get messages all the time asking about him. You’re probably the only reason Sollux ever sees anyone at all, which also requires you to see people who do not necessarily like you very much, and it’s all a little much. You’ve been isolating yourself for so long, and you honestly can’t remember how to interact with people (which is probably good because you were  _ shit _ at it), but you force yourself to because you have to for him. But you know that they hate hate hate you, and it  _ hurts. _

But sometimes people ask about you. Like Rose and Aradia who seem to  _ care _ , and you honestly don’t know how to deal with that.

It’s weird how polar you and Sollux are when it comes to this social interaction. He puts little effort into it, always has, and is generally rather introverted, yet so many people care when he’s in pain and isolating himself. You used to try  _ so hard _ , you were as extroverted as you could get, but when you were in pain and isolating yourself for so long,  _ nobody cared _ . You were practically screaming for help. You know you used the words you asked and asked, but the result was the same, nobody cared, and nobody should have. You try not to think back on that too much.

Karkat is probably your strongest mutual friend, and you start a group chat with the three of you in it. Sollux rarely says anything, and honestly it’s all but dead, but you still sometimes arrange to hang out and try some human board game with some of Karkat’s friends or watch some movies. You try to drag Sollux along most of the time too, and he often does go, even if he is dejected the entire time and honestly seems like he’s dead.

It’s weird, the rappor you’ve gained again with Karkat. Is it a farce? Is it real? Is your personality to anyone around you representative of who you are at all? Does it matter at all when you’re all going to die because of the very fact you’re alive? Who you are is a product of a game, and your role was to hurt those you loved, so how can you be anyone else?

But it’s so light. Karkat’s warmed up to you, and when he’s yelling at you in all caps it’s just  _ him _ . You always beat him in chess, and Sollux always beats both of you, but you’re really quite good at most strategy games, and Karkat yells with his lack of control over the volume of his voice and you jest, and and you feel some sort of happiness. Sometimes John or Dave or Jade is there, and as long as Karkat’s there, you’ve learnt the terms of which you can communicate with them, joke with them, be real with them. You still feel gripping panic around your waist and guilt and self loathing coursing through your entire water-based vascular system every time you see Kanaya, however. But even she doesn’t actively want you dead. Inactively, however, you feel it even when she’s not there.

One day you dare to reach out to Feferi. She hasn’t asked about Sollux once, and you assume that’s because she’d have to talk to  _ you _ about it. You don’t think she’s messaged Sollux at all, and you know some shit must’ve went down between the two of them, but you ask her what’s up and make it clear you’re only asking because you were with Sollux. She says she’d rather not talk to you right now and doesn’t reach out afterwards.

You only slightly breakdown over that. Sollux is in your bed as he seems to  _ always _ be, so you hide in another corner away from him. Shockingly, Sollux actually comes to comfort you. You don’t say what happened, not wanting him to know she essentially blew him off too, but he mutters out an “it’th alright” and generally looks really awkward and tired. Despite, it’s enough to make your heart feel a little less like it was grabbing your chest from the inside out and stabbing you with Feferi’s culling fork, somehow fiery and piercing simultaneously, so you’re grateful.

Of everyone, Sollux almost always refuses to see Aradia, though. You talk to her on a daily basis now, and honestly you really think she’s awesome, but Sollux doesn’t seem to want anything to do with her which is odd because you  _ know _ he cares about her. You think he’s either too scared he’ll bring her down, or he’s scared of letting her see how far down he is. 

You convince him one day, and the light in her eyes is brilliant as she babbles on about how powerful our timeline is despite our inevitable doom and how exciting it all is. You tag along, trying to stay behind, unsure whether or not you were really invited. Sollux seems much more lively too, actively interacting with her, even if everything he said was super pessimistic, openly mocking her with sarcasm, and she laughs.

You try to fade away into the background at one point. It’s clear neither of them want you there. It’s clear you shouldn’t even  _ be  _ a part of any of this at all. Sollux seems even sadder with you. What are you even doing. You are just hurting the only person who cares about you and annoying everyone who cares about him in some weak attempt to undo what had happened to you by projecting onto him.

No one gives a shit about you, not Karkat, not Rose, not John, and certainly not Aradia. 

Sollux and Aradia notice your absence by their side before you can really disappear away, and Aradia looks sadly at you. Sollux almost looks desperate somehow, scared, something. You were never the best at reading facial expressions.

“Don’t you think this second shot at improvement has to be...” Aradia starts, directing her question at you, either trying to mock or engage you, but Sollux interrupts.

“ED probably doethn’t care. He careth a lot more about the build up to everything that’th happened,” he says. You feel awkward, anxious, and confused.

“I do?” You think about that for a minute and what he means. You guess he has a point. You are very interested in the makeup of everything, of how everything came to be the way it was, why it did, as if it could somehow comfort how irredeemable you are. “I do.” You’re distracted though, by how they are standing beside each other, so close, almost touching, and you’ve been trying to convince Sollux every day to hang out with Aradia, but you feel sick now. “I’m going, gotta recipe that needs perfectin’,” you say, before retreating. You hear a mumbled bye from each of them, but you abscond quickly, hiding back in your respiteblock.

You get a message from Aradia saying that there’s importance in the future, too, of your future, as if you aren’t even more doomed than everyone else. Sollux sends you two words:  _ you traiitor _ . He’s back within about a half hour and collapses the second he gets back into your block. 

“Traitor?” you ask, somewhat amused he’d call you that. A sinking feeling sets into your gut when you realise you  _ actually are a murderous traitor _ . You know that’s not what he was referring to, that he was jesting, that his next words will probably prove that, but it doesn’t make that fact any less real. You hate yourself a little bit more.

“You didn’t even thtay,” he says. You try to calm down because  _ he just wanted you there _ . And you’re so not used to feeling wanted in any way. You prepare some food and don’t respond because you don’t know how to deal with these emotions. He bites off sarcastically that it’s so easy to deal with Aradia when he can barely deal with seeing things around him (which you don’t ask for clarification on), and you actually fight back the urge to defend her. Jealous or not, you still feel protective of her. 

He just seems so dead, though. The second he got back. From his comment, you can only assume he was fronting with her. You fight back the urge to say to him that maybe it wouldn’t be tiring being around her if he didn’t pretend everything was okay.

You think back to when he was so alive, so full of energy that it was scary, and how it was like an explosion after he was with her. You suppose it was kind of like then, except the opposite. He’s not being himself around her, and you don’t know why because you know he must’ve for years.

Maybe it’s because whatever he’s struggling with now is different, and that scares him, and he really just doesn’t want to scare her or scare her away.

And sometimes it really scares you, the lack of energy sparking around him when you were so accustomed to it, the way he goes on sometimes about how you’d be better off to kick him away and never speak to him again. Or better off yet, letting him drop from the asteroid, so he could truly know his psionics no longer worked at all.

That’s why you’re so surprised the day you feel yourself flung against the wall, your back taking the impact before you hit the ground. You turn to see Sollux, still laying down, looking at you in a malicious way he hasn’t in  _ weeks _ . It’s honestly terrifying.

You suppose this  _ has  _ to be a good sign, even as you stand up and feel a little dizzy. You sorta got so lost in the last while of him being so sad you  _ forgot _ everything you read. It sort of felt like it was how it was going to be forever, unless you did work out some medication which you were wary of since it wasn’t for your own consumption, that he wouldn’t ever speed it all back up.

You had somewhat settled into this, into his depression and being around him while he was like how he was. Anything else at this point just seemed jarring.

You glare at him, though. He didn’t need to hurt you to make his point that he was regaining control of his psionics. His face  _ crumples _ under your gaze, though, and you regret it.

“It worked,” he said, talking to the covers. You let off a little of your irritability in your tone.

“Wwhat? Flingin’ me against wwalls again?” You suppose you don’t really mind; in fact, had it not been so sudden, it could be somewhat exciting, but the pith of it was you were scared that his moods were going to end up with him leaving you. He was so unpredictable before, and if it’s anything like last time, you don’t know what’s going to happen.

He shrugs. He definitely doesn’t seem to have much energy. When you go lay beside him, he mutters an apology before shifting to kiss your upper back where you made impact. You end up falling asleep holding his hand.


	22. Chapter 22

He wakes you up later, shaking you actually, and he kisses you once you open your eyes. It’s sweet and delicate, but there’s energy you’re not accustomed to in the fervent way he starts kissing your neck.

“Sol,  _ Sol? _ ,” you say in between breaths. It’s hard to think of anything when his mouth is on your collarbone.

“I jutht feel  _ good _ ,” he says, leaning back and looking at you earnestly, and he shrugs. You then feel a current running down your body, pushing against your bulge. You gasp out. Definitely some sort of moodswing on his part, but honestly, you don’t want to think about that, and you just kiss him instead.

He lifts at the edge of your shirt, much more interested that he’s been in weeks, and you reach down to get his off too. You then lightly nip and kiss his shoulder, feeling his lowblooded energy radiate off him. He groans, but doesn’t push you away immediately like he has in the past.

“ _ ED _ ,” he says, but then he does move your hand away. He’s trembling, and you notice some currents of air hitting you benignly. Something definitely shifted overnight. His hand still is shaking slightly as he looks anywhere but at you. When his eyes meet yours, they’re wide with such intensity,

“Wwhat’s wwrong?” you ask, backing off. He gazes at you desperately, his blue and red eyes scared.

“We’re red right?” he says. It takes you a second to realise what he’s asking, and it scares you. Does he intend on changing that? You confirm, whisper out a, “ _..yeah,” _ because you really fucking hope that you are. He asks again, and he sounds scared. You say the same thing, that you are, and you trace your finger down his arm.

You don’t really know what’s going on. It hasn’t really  _ mattered _ in the last couple weeks, but you still feel so uncertain about this one key thing, the fact for some reason he doesn’t want to fill a pail with you. You’ve tried to chalk it off as unimportant so many times, but it’s definitely something that’s stuck in the back of your mind. Maybe that wouldn’t have been true if it hadn’t started out as a power play, but you don’t even know what’s going on now. That sort of black twisted game isn’t something you’d do in a red relationship, so maybe that’s why he needs you to confirm?

You still feel kind of sick, kind of weak. It’s like he’s asking you if he should play you, and if the answer were that he should, that he knows he would win. And you know it too. He would. He already has.

Your thoughts, however, do not negate you prominent  _ interest _ when Sollux decides to slip his pants off. You slide yours off as well, and start kissing him almost aggressively, so much more comfortable without your tight jeans, but honestly so distracted by the fact you’re  _ here _ , that this is  _ Sollux _ , that you’ve kissed so many times now, that you both seem to mean so much to each other.

You move against him desperately, kiss him passionately, feeling bare and insecure, but too hot to notice.

When you reach your hand down to touch his bulge, you notice he starts shaking even more prominently, so you pull back. 

“Is somethin’ wwrong?” you ask, concerned. Worried it might be related to the fact you’re both not wearing as much as usual, that maybe it was too intense or something to do with his depression, you go to grab your pants, but he stops you. 

“Red?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you respond. “That’s okay?” you can’t help but ask, when he’s still looking so hesitant. He’s not responding, and he’s still, and you don’t know how to take it. Is this a calm before the storm? He kisses you, sweet, slow, red. You’re just hovering over him, so he’s putting effort into leaning up towards you, deliberate with what feels like his love.

“No, I’ll jutht change quadrantth every time my mutated, poithoned thinkpan actth up,” he says. It’s easy how quick he just laughs away your concerns. Before it seemed like he was mocking you for it. Now, it just feels like he is mocking the idea, letting you know your worries are ill founded. You kiss him back, and your brain is on such a trajectory, it’s hard to try to pay attention to gauge him, and you’re scared even though mostly you’re just over the top with the sensations. Who knew that something so soft could cause so much intensity inside your pan?

He puts his hand down your boxers; his hand strokes along your bulge, and it’s honestly the only thing in all of existence your brain processes because it requires that much processing, that many chemicals flowing in your brain, that much anticipation, that much intensity. And it feels  _ good. _

You dare to slide your own hand down his flat acid tract, over his sharp hip bones, before he puts his hand on yours once again, stopping you. You begin to feel horrible, are you pressuring him? You’re unsure. He just asks you if you are red again; he doesn’t tell you to stop.

“I’m thorry,” he says, this time, and you look up at him confused.

“It’s okay,” you say, trying to convey a wealth of emotions. You’re still not sure if he’s just not into the idea of pailing, the idea of pailing with  _ you _ , or what, if this is twisted, if it’s sincere, but it doesn’t matter, and he just sounds scared.

You are so focused on the sudden lack of his hand on your bulge, that his hands are trembling on his underwear before you are taking it all fully in. You shake your head, not liking this, his fear. You can almost tell this isn’t completely about you.

You’re still unsure, still confused, still making it about you because isn’t  _ everything  _ about you? Isn’t everything wrong and everything right? Just in case, you need to act.

“Sol, I’m serious, wwe don’t needa to do this. Any of this,” you say. You’re trying to be as tender as possible, your one hand soft on one of his as he’s yet to make progress, the other holding you up to hover above him. He doesn’t reply for a second, and you think that this is it. You don’t know where his lines are, if it’s something constantly moving when he’s up or down, but you’re content in learning if he lets you know.

“It’th not that,” he says. “It’th thtupid.” He looks down when he says it, down to where your knee is on the floor right outside his own. You let a little of the pressure of your hand and let him take a bit more of your weight.

“Not a powwer game?” you ask. His eyebrows furrow, and he draws his gaze back up to you, but not quite your face. Maybe your chest.

“I thould’ve been culled,” he says. You want to start on about how the both of you don’t say that anymore, about how your old world was gone and good riddance to it, even if it were the only place you had a place, but you don’t because he’s shoving his hands down past his waist again, and you have to lean up for him to push his boxers down. You pull yours down too, shifting your weight, and for the first time, you both are both completely naked for each other. It’s almost too much for you to take in.

“Okay?” you ask, breathless, a smile on your face. He doesn’t nod, though, and is instead pointedly turning his head to the side. You notice how tightly his shoulders are pressing towards the centre of his body. He’s so tense; he’s scared. 

You want to take this back because you’re nervous too, but it’s not like he is. Does he not trust you? Does he not want this? Have you pressured him somehow? He should know there’s no pressure for anyone to pail anymore, not with the drones gone. He could live his life without pailing if he so chose to.

You move your hand down his body slowly, eyes focused on his face, wondering if he’ll tell you to stop, wondering if you could tell when to stop by reading his expression. Should you ask if this is alright? You’re not sure. You’re distracted by the slight feeling of his ribs down his chest.

“We’re red?” he asks again. You frown, but nod.

“Nothin’s changed in the last feww minutes, I don’t think,” you reply. It’s weird, the way the two of you are rubbing off on each other, even in the way you communicate. He looks a little calmer for a second, but it doesn’t help much. You don’t like this, how scared he seems, everything about this, so you push off the ground and sit beside him instead of continuing.

“Wwhat’s wwrong?” you ask, but Sollux hasn’t moved even his stupid nugbone to look at you. You can’t help but dare look down at his bulge, trying to gauge how turned on he even is because he certainly felt so when you were on top of him, but it’s then you see it, and you hold back a belt of laughter. You do, however, somewhat jerk from the abrupt realisation of what is going on. Sollux flinches and looks further away, body drawn in tenser than ever.

This entire mess was over him having a bifurcated bulge? You nearly forget yourself, nearly fall into a fit of complete laughter because if you’re reading all of this right it’s hilarious, but you’re still present enough to realise what that would feel like to Sollux.

You touch his face gently, hoping he’ll look at you again.

“Sol?” you ask. He looks at you, and you swear you can tell there’s a hint of yellow in his cheeks. You kiss him, unsure of what to say. Glad to finally make so many pieces make sense. It’s hard to tie it all together, to react in the right way in this given time without hurting him. 

You’re so ridiculous; you realise. And you realise you’ve never quite seen him as  _ completely _ real, completely who he is. You need more time to play it over in your head, and you honestly can’t when all you’re focused on is his lips on yours, however. It’s weird how quick it is, the shift in your thinking. All the fear, all the way you viewed him melts into something a little closer to reality.

“I thould’ve been fucking culled,” he repeats into your lips. You pull back a fraction just to shake your head. 

“Two bulges? Sounds like  _ fun _ ,” you say because you honestly don’t know what he wants, but you think maybe if you make him feel really good, he’ll feel better. You trace your hand down to his bulge again, slowly, waiting for him to ask you to stop. “That’s wwhere your hesitance is from?” He nods but doesn’t say anything. You kiss his neck and then shift down, tracing your mouth now down his body. You realise he’s shaking a bit. “Sol, is this okay?” you ask as you suck on his hip bone. He lets out a strangled, “Yeth.” 

You trace your kisses by his thighs, and you’re so absorbed in where to put your mouth next, where to touch him, how to make his breath hitch and his body react, that you forget the fear of the fact you really don’t know what to do. You want to make him feel good, but what if you can’t? Well, it doesn’t matter when you’re tripping on endorphins and proximity!

You lightly nibble on his thighs, shifting down, before finally getting to his bulge(s). When you do, you touch barely him at all, but he lets out a moan at your soft caress. You might be inexperienced, but he certainly seems to be enjoying this right now. You play with pressure and speed when you put your mouth around one, hand on the other to the split, which seems ultra-senstitive by the way Sollux is reacting, and it’s not until he’s pulling back to come into the bucket he must have pulled out at some point that you come back to reality and realise what exactly was going on. The way he calls out your name when your hand is one his bulges as he comes before he collapses back down. You feel weirdly sated, despite the fact you’re still horny as hell and haven’t come yet yourself and crave stimulation. 

“Still think that’s wworth cullin’ ovver?” you ask after a minute, resting your head on his thigh. He drags you up with both arms. 

“Do you need me to...” he asks after he glances at you, and you don’t know what to say because you’re honestly fighting the urge to just rub against him to feel more friction against your bulge. But he looks so sated and calm, and you don’t need him to, so you shake your head. He tries to sit up abruptly, and you give out a little laugh a you hold him down before moving so he can sit up beside you. “You thould fill the pail,” he says, and it feels like electricity down your body. You feel susceptible. 

“Okay,” you say, not because you need it, but because he suggested it and you’re very open to suggestion. He turns so that he is sitting behind you. 

“Touch yourthelf,” he says, and he’s never quite ordered you to do anything in this sort of situation before, which you’re glad of because you follow without thinking, and that’d be pretty fucking embarrassing if you were both still kismeses. Your hands are immediately on your bulge, and so are his psionics which you know he must be glad are at his disposal even when he seems so tired, and his hands running up and down your torso as you stroke, and it takes you about less than a minute before you’re coming into the bucket and then falling back onto Sollux. He moves slightly, and you slide down beside him, looking at his face. He seems so vulnerable. You hoped you did everything right. You’re suddenly very insecure that you didn’t.

“Droneth won’t cull uth now,” he says, and he’s smiling, but you frown.

“That’s wwas nevver a concern,” you respond. He nods and pulls you closer, sniffing your hair. 

“You thurprithingly don’t thmell bad,” he whispers into your hair. You lazily kiss him. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen him this comfortable. Something about that makes you feel triumphant.

“You’re beautiful,” you say, because that’s the sort of corny shit only Eridan Ampora would say after sex. He snorts. The realisation kind of dawns on your a second time, of how this new piece of data fits into the map of your relationship and how you got here, but now you’re in a more functional mindset to accept it. “Wwas your... that... um? Why you...” you trail off. You’re not sure if it’s okay to ask about his insecurity of being naked, but you still feel fragile and don't understand most of the tangled path you both took to get to where you are. 

“Probably,” he responds to that. He doesn’t elaborate, but you don't understand what your question really was so less his response. 

“I... why...” You're so fucking eloquent. “Is that why you ended our kismesistude?” You further explain, already cringing from how wrong-footed you feel. Sometimes you can't deal with the weight of being the Worst Troll Ever. But you had kind of pieces something together...the fear of vulnerability around someone meant to cut you down, to mock you, having insecurities that made that just so undesirable. Maybe you’re not the only one not best suited to be in a kismesitude yet. 

“Probably...” he also responds with before you fall into a silence while you further contemplate rejection, stupidity, and the minefield of troll interactions. 

After a while, he interrupts the silence, when you thought he’d drifted off, “Thorry about flinging againtht the wall and all,” he says. “It theemth to be one of the thingth I ecthel at.” You can’t stop the next words before they’re out of your mouth.

“Nothin’ wwrong wwith a little consensual wall flingin’.” You’re shocked at yourself. It probably makes sense in some grand scheme, of where your old kismesistude stops along the lines of this new territory the both of you have found yourself in. The most shocking thing is how he doesn’t snort at that, at how he doesn’t really respond at all. Is he asleep? You haven’t been looking at him because you feel like the violet on your cheeks must be visible if you look at him. But now you do, and he isn’t asleep, and he’s looking at you. 

“Kinky, ED,” he settles on after a while. Maybe you made him blush. “Wathn’t, though, wathn’t conthenthual.”

“It didn’t hurt,” you say cautiously, aware that he might not be talking about what happened earlier but something deeper, something in the past in your mind.

“We were both thitty kithmetheth,” he says, and yeah, he’s not talking about what happened just before you went to sleep.

“Yeah,” you say, remembering that time he made you feel so helpless you beat him and he didn’t even do anything to stop you. It kind of feels like stones in your acid tract. Maybe it was right to end it, not because you didn’t hate him enough, but because neither of you needed someone to be hated by.

“And I’m jutht a thitty troll,” he adds, and you see tears brimming in his eyes. You kiss his cheek gently. 

“It’s okay that it wwas a mess, gettin’ to wwhere wwe are,” you say. 

“Yeah, but then I hurt you, and it wathn’t to do with any of that,” he says, and it’s not that coherent, but you understand. 

“And I fuckin’ blinded you, and I killed Fef, and Kan, and destroyed the matriorb, and destroyed evveryone on this planet’s chance for a future on this fuckin’ meteor,” and you’re rambling now, because listing your misdeeds becomes verbose, and he kisses you to shut you up before he replies.

“You know that’th not the thame, and you know thith ithn’t your fault. The univerthe ith jutht fucked, and we’re biproductth of that fuckery,” he says. You snicker. That may be true, but it’s still your fucking fault. 

The universe is kind of messed up though, making you know what it’s like to be a violent murderous high blood. Maybe the real reason high bloods are superior is actually because they’re not, because they’re so far from adequate and should really be the ones to be culled. Maybe it’s all an elaborate conspiracy. Or maybe everyone just fucking deserved a chance, violent high blood or short-living low blood alike. (Except you.)

“I’m tired. Wwhy are you suddenly so chatty,” you say, as if you don’t know the reason. 

“You know how we’re destined to die,” he says, as if he didn’t hear what you just said. 

“No, nevver wworry about that,” you respond sarcastically. 

“We thould talk to Aradia more. Maybe it’th not that bad.”

“You’re bein’ silly.”

“It’th not like I’m jutht vertiginouth, thwept off my feet, floating, by my dathing moirrate,” he says. He lifts you ever so slightly off the bed with his psionics, and it’s a shock to your system considering how tired you are. You’d tell him to give you warning about that sort of thing, but honestly, you really kind of like it. “Now I’m exhauthted,” he says, after he lowers you like a second later. You snuggle up against him and wonder if you’ve encouraged him at all to hope. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 16 yo me is lame but um sollux is also lame goddamn


	23. Chapter 23

“We instinctively fear death because being dead can be _horrible_ and being alive is something to be cherished, but death is not some definite end the way it logically feels when you've never experienced anything else. But many versions of us have experienced death, in fact, we have too--though it doesn’t seem to count in the grand scheme of our dream selves and mortality. Death isn't always bad--dream bubbles can be a little difficult to navigate and a little surreal, but honestly, I feel like this time we have left here alive, this reset, is more purgatory than anything. We know how it ends, we know where we're going, and we all have a chance to get a grasp on our lives and the people we shared them with in a more concrete, familiar context before we navigate dream bubbles and the realm of what that afterlife is,” Aradia smiles. She's sitting cross-legged in front of you. Sollux remains quiet by your side, holding your hand.  “Like you Eridan! While I may have easily met and befriended many Eridans, they are not you, and they are not the person who...”

“Killed your friends in a suicidal, self-destructiv-ive rage?” you supply.

“I more meant one of my childhood friends, rather close throughout life before or not, someone I already know and connect with. Though, honestly, a lot of Eridans would probably be kinda shitty to me.” You cringe.

“I'm startin’ to like death less and less,” you say. You can't imagine a world full of yous that you can't control. It's like your life played out. You don't even fully know what she means or what it would entail, but if seems like your life, this thing decided by this game, as a microcosm during external to a macrocosm around and you'd like none of it.

“Oh, Eridan, but that's my point. They're not you.”

“But aren’t they? Just me's that havven't experienced the same things?”

“It does bring up the question of what is who we are. It seems like the game had a hand in all of it. In a universe where our very roles were unfulfilled, our entire identities would seem drastically different. But all these people who are us also have separate awarenesses... Isn't that cool?”

“It kinda sounds like hell, but bein’ alivve is also kinda like hell, so I guess it's reassurin’ we are headed to some surreal dream-like hell full of people we already know we hate: me’s,” you say. Aradia looks a little put out at your negativity, so you try to spin something on it because you really like her, and you are miles calmer just talking to her about the concept of death and where you’re going. “It does feel like purgatory, though. Maybe there’s something to say about having a chance at life to wallow in my sins.”

“You mean redeem yourself while you’re still alive instead of while you’re dead?” Aradia says, and you don’t say anything, because _yes_ , that is what you mean, but you can’t say it out loud because you know you’re never worthy of redemption in any fashion, even if the reset has made you feel closer.

“Ath mutth ath I agree that it’th nithe to reconvene with people we’ve wronged in our thort, pitiful troll liveth,” Sollux gives a glance at you when he says that, and you shirk backwards feeling slightly ill. “I wath in a unique plathe before thith bullthit, and I really don’t want to fathe an eternity like thith,” he says. “The verthion of me that never ethperienthed the rethet ith mutth happier.” You draw your hand towards your body and scratch your opposite arm. You’re not supposed to take that personally, right? Sollux rolls his eyes at you before taking you hand again and stroking it gently.

“You wanted to die before you... developed your disorder?” Aradia tries to clarify. She speaks in a guarded tone, only glancing briefly at your hands.

“Yeah...”

“Gettin’ stuck in perpetual adolescence kinda sucks all ‘round, so less if you havve some stupid disorder you didn’t havve as a child,” you say, trying to be sympathetic. “At least, you probably wwon’t hear the vvoices?”

“We won’t!” Aradia exclaims, and Sollux hasn’t said anything more. “Oh, come on, you’d have to deal with this if you’re alive either. At least when you’re dead the rules are a little different. Things will get better.” You feel a pang that you can’t be as supportive as Aradia.

“I didn’t mean to make thith thome pity-fetht, I’d thwear you’re both red for me,” Sollux says. You blush.

“Kinda am,” you say.

“More like the the human emotion of friendship,” Aradia says. “Which can be kind of red, I guess, and horribly twisted in our society.”

“Wwhy did the reset happen, though?”

“I don’t know. I tried to talk to Feferi about it because she seems to know the most about the whole situation, but I don’t think she knows either...” Aradia says, but her pitch shifts down as she sees you reaction. You try to look nonchalant and dramatically look around the room as if you don’t care. Sollux snickers at that, which is good because he’d gone a little dark at her mention too. “Look, Feferi is my friend, and I think she’s a really bright, powerful troll, but she is a bit self-centered, and...”

“Self-centered?” you interrupt. “She’s like the opposite of self-centered.” Aradia sighs. Now, you’re kind of frustrated. “I knoww her!” you say, and it hurts. “I knoww you more than either of you do. She might hate me, but wwe wwere... wwe _wwere_ good friends. I still...” you don’t know how to phrase what you mean. “I don’t havve any right to defend her or care about her or anythin', but she’s like...” you trail off again. “Important.” You glance at Sollux. He’s not saying anything.

“Eridan, no offense, but I think your feelings for Feferi and her tendency to shift blame away from herself may have clouded your view of her, even if you two were close when you were younger,” Aradia says. It makes you furious. “She doesn’t like having close relationships with people who take effort even if they put equal effort into it. You both need to not hate yourself because of it.”

“Aradia, no offense, but do you evven know who I am? I literally _killed_ her. Not to mention, I wwas like, the wworst friend and wworst morrail _evver_. She’s not self-centered. She’s vvery selfless for puttin’ up wwith me for so long,” you say. Aradia sighs.

“I think you see yourself the way she sees you instead of the way I can as someone who cares about both parties,” Aradia says.

“I can barely remember, though, shouldn’t wwe be trustin’ her?”

“I wouldn’t,” Aradia says. “Sollux, what’s wrong?”

“What, you want me to ‘glub’ about my feelingth? We aren’t quite in a pile,” he says, but you’re glad Aradia addressed his silence. He’s looked downcast, and you know that he’s definitely been feeling better overall, so it’s not like you just want to blame his depression. Aradia sighs. From what you’ve gathered from her, he used to be quite open with her, which is hard to imagine now. She’s always so frustrated at his attempts at blocking her out.

“Isn’t that the point of this? Eridan wanted to address the hopelessness surrounding death. Also, I disagree with both of you about your adequacy of telling when hope is gone or when we are doomed... I mean, I guess, you kind of can, Sollux, when it comes to life or death, but that’s not hope and that’s not being truly doomed, and Eridan, you most definitely are not qualified at all, and if anything, your position of Prince of Hope makes you less qualified to know when hope is lost.”

“That and his deprethion,” Sollux says, and you glare at him. “Fuck, now you got me in thith forthaken communithon wake.”

“Good,” Aradia says, shaking her head for emphasis. Her black curls bounce. “Stop cutting me out.”

“I’m thure ED can fill you in on why ecthactly that ith a bad idea to be in my general vithinity,” Sollux says.

“Wwhat?”

“My capathiouth thelf-loathing may have onthe been hyperbolic, if only to begin prematurely adequate for my impetiginouth future,” he says. You squint at him. “At leatht I am fittingly punithed.”

“You both just need to stop hating yourselves,” Aradia says, clearly frustrated. “I swear, all of my friends hate themselves, it’s so _frustrating_.”

“Aradia, ith there a way to make mythelf ceathe to ecthitht? Not jutht go to thith dream bubble world?” Sollux asks. You freeze at that, not that you were moving more than breathing air, but everything feels still. You feel a warm emptiness start in your chest and continue throughout your body. It’s kind of like nothing. Maybe he wouldn’t have ever asked something like that if you were able to actual react. Maybe if you cared.

“I don’t...” she stumbles. She rarely does, and sometimes you think she just sort of knows what you’re going to say. You’re still frozen. It’s ironic--you’d wanted to ask her that too, but you just assumed the answer was yes. “ _Why?_ ”

“You’re both tho dramatic,” he says, though you don’t understand. You haven’t say anything. And Aradia just asked why.

“That’s unfair, you messaged me completely freaked out over Eridan’s suicidal...”

“AA!” he gives out, cutting her off. You vaguely wonder what that was about. You think any other time you’d care about more “It’s a good quethtion.”

“Everything’s going to be okay,” she says. “And I have every intention of existing and so do you.” She looks nervous to you. “But, Sollux, _why_?”

“Practically, really don’t want to thpend a lot of time, tho leth an eternity thtuck either being crathy or being utterly dead inthide,” he says. “It’th not like how I thought of life before, where we only got a few thweepth to thuffer through,” he says. You know that’s directed at Aradia because, “before,” your lifespan probably still would have felt like an infinity to him. It isn’t until then, where he’s contemplating a future beyond a few decades and not wanting anything to do with it, that it dawns on you that that’s something you do have--time, and time with him, regardless of blood, regardless of asteroid and death sentences and mental health issues. It enters your head like water, trickling over the dry fluff--but not enough to rid of the wool.

“The purpose of dream bubbles and this consciousness triggered only-hypothesised at sustained version of this afterlife is not that point when it comes to who you are and the complicated duality of your life you’ve always been struggling with, and the new form it’s come to take shape in at this part of your life. And, while I think we will find it’s not quite like being _alive_ , down to the way illnesses exist, life itself is precious, and this new scary and maybe often imposing disorder you’re dealing with will get better in time. You’re just at the beginning, Sollux, and things do get better and you’ll get better at handling it, given the parameters in life or the afterlife.”

“Yeah, yeah, becauthe everything happenth for a reathon, and thome thingth have to be done jutht becauthe they will inevitably anywayth... I jutht want to have thith ditheathe gone,” he says, but it’s after a minute. You think he’s somewhat reassured by her, and you weren’t sure what to say, so you’re glad she’s here. It makes you wonder if things would have been easier if he’d had her in his life while he first was manic and then depressed instead of seeking you out.

“That is true. When you can see time and life the way I do it’s just simple to understand, but it is true, and it is really great too. Even in a doomed timeline. I find the inevitability of everything and the way that time ties together existence fascinating, and the way the reset plays into this is just another layer of intriguing complexity. I am more of an authority of the hope for a future than both of you, so trust me when I say not everything is bullshit.”

“When you thee thingth the way I do from whatever ith happening, the thcreaming and the lowth and highth, or whatever, I think it giveth me the authority to just that yeah it’th bullthit becauthe I thee it thith way,” he says. “Perthepthion influenthes reality’s worth.” You have to agree.

“And who I am,” you add. “You’re good, and so are you Sol, honestly, but evven if there is somethin’ to be said about awwareness and existence, it means next to nothin’ wwhen that existing being is someone who doesn’t deserve anythin’ like me.”

“Health plays an intrinsic role in all of reality. From cancerous universes to sick important players in the game to create said new universes to the very way all the evolution works on the many planets to create the diversity of creatures that exist.”

“And?” you say. You’ve noticed that sometimes Aradia can get into her philosophical mindsets and just talk about it forever, and, often, it’s not necessarily triggered by the actual conversation, even if this time it was.

“Life is still worth living even if there’s an illness in your mind that makes that fact obscurred.”

“Who’s to say it’s obscurred from me? What if I havve evvery right to knoww everythin’s bullshit, and your ability to see so much of time obscures you from the meaninglessness of it all?” Sollux does his laugh that makes your chest smile.

“You thound like my head trying to figure out if the highth or the lowth are more accurate,” Sollux says.

“Wwhich one likes me?” you ask, before you can stop yourself.

“Both?” he responds confused, but something about your demeanor must let him see your insecurity, so he continues. “Both, ED, fuck, haven’t you theen me through all thith bullthit?”

“I haven’t,” Aradia says. Sollux nervously rubs his thumb on yours. Before he can respond to that, though, Aradia continues. “And to answer your question Eridan, I don’t think knowing more and experiencing more states of being makes my perspective more obscurred.”

“But you’re still just eight like us,” you reason, kind of glad for the switch back in subjects. “Not some great authority.”

“The amount of time I’ve been alive feels irrelevant, and I don’t see how it invalidates me, especially more than you,” she says. It wasn’t really your point, but you don’t argue it.

“You obvviously see the inevvitability of the things that happened before. If they are inevvitable and the wworld is a make up of creations includin’ myself... doesn’t that mean I am inevvitably evvil? Wwhy should I let an inevvitably evvil creature benefit from a rich existence, if one wwere to exist?”

“You were never evil,” Sollux says, which makes you tear your eyes away from Aradia to just gaze at him. You fight an intense urge to kiss him there for her sake.

“I think we should just try to be nice to people,” Aradia says.

“You need to forgive yourthelf,” Sollux says. Coming from someone who really did not like you, who you wronged and who loved people who you wronged, it means a lot. It feels like permission that you won't take. It feels like warmth. “Unlike me, your mithery ithn’t eternal.”

“I wwouldn’t bet on that,” you say.

“Jutht don’t bet againtht AA.”

“You’re both going to get better in time,” she says. “I’d bet that.”

“It’s hard,” you say. You feel phantom pains around your middle. “Being a kid and growwin’ up. It’s hard and no one understands.”

“Yeah...” Sollux agrees. Aradia shrugs, but you think she agrees too. Even surrounded by Sollux and Aradia, friends again with Karkat, becoming friends with Rose and John, and the other humans seem to be a requirement these nights, you miss Kanaya and Feferi like someone shot a hole through your chest.

“Ethpethially when growing up meanth lothing your mind,” Sollux adds. And while you don’t understand that, which is his point, for some reason you relate.

But somehow you’re doing it. You guess you’ve already died, so you haven’t done a great job of it, but you’re here now, navigating this web of growing up and tangled up relationships to end up, in some ways, happy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It hurts me deeply I had to take this fanfiction down and then re-upload it. I hope some people who were interested in it originally found it again? 
> 
> I came up with this idea when I was 16 years old and fleshed most of it out while quite out of my mind with bipolar symptoms. It really means quite a lot to me. I did not really know what was going on at the time and still don't and being able to relate and connect through the characters and also the other feelings through navigating relationships (I fell in love and had my heart broken during the course of writing this, as well as a bipolar diagnosis, many medications, and reconnection to a world I nearly killed myself to leave) as well as adolescence is so important to me. 
> 
> It really makes me sad that I lost all the comments that I did and that this was not updated connected to the times it was. While I was writing it and when I originally finished it (quite a bit ago) this fanfiction was an anchor and a joy and a connection to myself. Some of the only moments of real joy I had in 2015/2016 during my extreme numbness and bipolar episodes was connected to homestuck and a lot relating to erisol. 
> 
> In other words, this isn't the last of me! 
> 
> (RIP to the fanfiction I originally thought of Summer 2015 when I was talking to my friend Cyrus about how black erisol could be Bad) (hes the reason I ship erisol it's all his fault)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted (first chapter) in December, 2015.


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